Of Flesh And Blood
by dmddsb
Summary: DracoHarry slash. I have not forgotten about this! Give us time!
1. Chapter One:Suffocation

**Title:** Of Flesh and Blood

**Author:** Patris Vox and Nicole7137

**Rating:** PG (for this chapter)

**Pairings:** Draco/Harry (later on)

**Disclaimer:** We are not JK Rowling, therefore, we do not own any of the characters…Though we wouldn't mind owning Draco ;D

**Warning:** Harry is stupid…Draco is haat…therefore! This is a Draco/Harry slash! If you don't like the idea of two guys going at each other, then why the hell did you click on this story anyway?

*~*~*

Prologue

This body holding me.  Be my reminder here

That I am not alone in

This body, this body hold me, feeling eternal

All this pain is an illusion

Tool

"Parabola"

_"Wands out, d'you reckon?"_

A familiar voice from the past jolted through Harry. 

"Oh God, not again!  Please not again…" 

_"Yeah." _

Another voice, he soon recognized as his own, followed. 

_The two boys pulled out their wands. _

Harry watched himself looking around the graveyard cautiously.  After all the practice he had reliving this event in his mind, Harry knew what to do, knew he must succeed in what he failed to do before. 

He ran over to himself and screamed, "GET CEDRIC AND RUN OUTTA HERE!  LISTEN TO ME! RUN, JUST RUN!!!" but the words quickly dissolved into the night air before they reached the seemingly deaf boy's ears_._

_"Someone's coming," the double said suddenly_. 

_Squinting, the boys peered through the darkness, and watched a small hooded figure stride towards them between the graves, holding out its arms.  From a distance it appeared to be carrying something_. 

Harry turned to Cedric, "This is not going to happen.  I won't let you die again.  I promise." 

He reached out quickly to pull Cedric back to the Portkey, but his hand fell straight through the boy's chest. 

"No…NO!  Not again," he pleaded, desperately trying to grasp the apparition. 

_Harry's own specter lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure_. 

_It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. ___

_For a second, Harry and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at one another_. 

"YOU BASTARD!!!" Harry screamed at the cloaked figure, knowing the hood masked the man who caused his parents death; the reason he always felt truly alone. 

Without a second thought, Harry raced at the traitorous Wormtail unarmed; his hands out, prepared to strangle his enemy to death.  Rage surged through him, and he hurled himself at the tiny man.  He coasted through Wormtail.

_A few feet away, the other Harry fell to his knees, his hands clutching his forehead, his scar._

_From a distance, a high, cold voice ordered, "Kill the spare."_

Harry knew there was only one more thing he could do.  He stood fearlessly in between Cedric and Wormtail**. **

_A swishing noise erupted and the servant's voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"  A blast of green light blazed across the graveyard, and a sickening thud resounded beside him._

Without looking, he knew the spell spared him and hit its chosen target. 

_Cedric lay spread-eagled on the ground beside him.  He was dead_. 

Moments seemed to drag on forever, as Harry stared into Cedric's face, at his empty, gray eyes and half-open mouth.  He knelt next to the body and pulled Cedric's hand to his own chest.  A tear drifted slowly down his cheek and fell onto the dead boy's lips.  Harry wiped away the drop with his thumb.

"I'm sorry. I'm never going to be able to save you." 

He kissed Cedric's hand, laid it back down, and closed Cedric's eyelids, forever.

*~*~*

Harry opened his eyes; there was no graveyard, no Wormtail, and no Cedric, only the tears remained, a sick reminder of the dream.  Harry reached over to his stand and fumbled for his glasses.  Securing them over his ears, he peered through the curtains, greeted with the sun's rays as they filtered into the dormitory.  His bloodshot, sore eyes squinted before adjusting to the light.  Harry slipped back under the covers and curled up his legs, wrapping his arms around them.  He rocked back and forth unconsciously, his head resting on his knees. 

_There was nothing you could do… nothing _you_ could do…_

The wizard clock silver hands pointed towards _nightmare._

*~*~*

Chapter One: Suffocation 

I'm full of regret

  
For all things that I've done and said

  
And I don't know if it'll ever be ok to show

  
My face 'round here

  
Sometimes I wonder if I disappear

Maroon 5

"Tangled"

A smile swept across Harry's face as the wind whipped around him on the pitch. He stretched and slowly let out a yawn.  Harry loved flying in the morning; he tried to wake before anyone else to claim the field for his own.  Alone, he did not have to worry about the snitch or pleasing others.  Just simply fly for himself.  After so many years of being everyone's Golden-Boy, Harry forgot what it was to live his own life.  Perfection was not a reasonable goal for anyone.  Neither was being a 'super hero'.  Kicking off from the ground, Harry attempted to push away all thoughts as he closed his eyes.  Wind rushed all around him, tousling his forever-disheveled hair.  Harry dove down and around, eyes still closed, wondering how long he could fly in his self-imposed darkness. 

_One hippopotamus, two hippopotamus, three hippo…_

"Brushing up on your ballet skills, eh Potter?" 

Harry's eyes snapped open.  He jerked his hand up, forcing the broom to slow down, to sway in the sky, and focused on a pale figure about forty or so feet down.    Immediately, he furrowed his brow as he realized who was below. 

_Malfoy._

Harry tried to think of a witty retort, but only managed to open his mouth a little and stare.  The Slytherin's entrance had caught him a little off guard. 

"Well?  Don't stare, Potter.  It's extremely rude." 

"Wh…what do you want?" 

Draco arched his eyebrow, looked down to his broom, and up to Harry again, wordlessly explaining his presence.  He noticed Harry had not picked up on this rather obvious hint. 

"Hmm… I don't know.  I thought I'd wake up early and have an _exciting_ one-sided conversation with _The_ Harry Potter." 

"…Shut up!" 

Shaking his head, Draco's hair cracked; a few strands fell perfectly around his sharp features. 

He sneered and raised his eyebrows; "You make it so easy for me." 

With that, Draco promptly mounted his broom and rose elegantly above the field. 

Harry would never admit it to anyone, but he always held a deep admiration for the way the blond flew.  Harry credited himself on being a naturally skilled flyer, but knew he did not have near the amount of practice or refined grace as Draco.  When Draco effortlessly shot through the sky, there was no doubt that he owned it. 

Malfoy swooped past him, snapping Harry out of his trance.  Instantly, he gripped his Firebolt firmly and took off after Draco.  Whenever the broom in front of him moved the slightest up, down, or side-to-side, Harry mimicked the maneuver.  Draco stole a glance back at Harry as he felt a rising suspicion of being followed. 

"Not bad Potter!  All you need now are your own moves," he scoffed.

"And maybe with a faster broom you could _almost_ beat me!" 

Draco eyed Harry spitefully before he departed, plummeting towards the ground.  Running his fingers through his slick hair, Malfoy gave one last fleeting look towards the heavens where Harry hovered on his broom.  The Slytherin stood motionless; his cold gaze penetrated Harry.  He hesitated before his body, in one fluid motion, head towards the castle for breakfast. Harry spiraled down until his feet touched the ground. 

He regarded Draco's retreating steps, taking a few forward himself, but then held his ground.  The Gryffindor paused, unsure of what to do. 

_What is he playing at?_

Harry shook his head, attempting to rid his mind of  Malfoy.  Feeling a faint rumble in his stomach, he realized breakfast drew near.  He trudged up the turf towards The Great Hall. 

*~*~*

Breakfast that morning came and went like every other.  Ron somehow managed to come in late with Seamus and Dean, while Hermione held a huge book in one hand and food in her other.  In between bites, she spurted out some random factoid she read and looked up at the two boys for acknowledgement. 

"Honestly, do you two _ever_ read?" she muttered, rolling her eyes when she received only blank expressions.

Harry chewed his food methodically while intently looking down at the table.  He noticed that it had been rubbed raw from the countless times the plates jostled all over it; he rubbed his thumb over one deep wound.  The space closed between his wandering thoughts and the dulled roar of conversations that spread throughout the vast hall.  He heard Ron going on about the upcoming Quidditch match and strategies he had thought of, but he could not focus on his friend's excitement.  The thrill, he once held for the game, no longer burned inside him.  However, with the new addition of Ron to the Gryffindor team as a beater, the impending match with Slytherin felt a bit more endurable. 

Harry sensed that breakfast was half over as a few Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students exited the Hall. 

_Bloody hell…Divination next.  I wonder what horrible, unmentionable death I'll die today? _

He swallowed yet another greasy sausage.  It was not that he did not mind that it was an easy class; it was the effort required in actually going to the lessons.  Sure, some courses he could see the importance in, Defense Against the Dark Arts for one, even Potions.  Potions -- just the word caused Harry to shudder.  He had lost so many points in Snape's class for being late, not paying attention, and not to mention for no reason at all, that he wouldn't be surprised if Gryffindor had negative points before Christmas.  At least Potions had a purpose; Divination was useless.  

"Hey Harry, you finished your Planet Charts, right?  That bloody witch and her…" 

"Yes," Harry interrupted Ron before he could go off rambling about Professor Trelawney. 

Harry knew that his friends had not overlooked the façade that he had adopted since the end of fourth year.  There were only so many times one could respond with monosyllabic answers or grunts before it became too painfully obvious to even the most moronic, even Neville had figured it out.  Of course, they had tried to coax him out of his darkened state, but Harry would not delve into the delicate subject, and if any of them persisted, he would simply get up and leave, ending the conversation.  Harry could not blame them for trying though, after all, that was the very same reason he chose them to be his friends.  After realizing they would not be able to break through his barrier, they gave up and behaved as though nothing had changed, and quietly accepted the newly subdued Harry. 

Harry spaced out for a while longer, nodding every minute or so at Ron, purely out of habit. 

Wishing himself back on the Quidditch pitch flying, he felt the chilled air brush up against his skin.  His thoughts rushed back to the morning's events.  Back to Malfoy. Harry fixed his eyes on a table across the hall, upon a certain Slytherin.  Draco absently chewed on the same piece of food for a couple minutes before swallowing, and pushed around the rest on his plate.  Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be carrying on a conversation of their own –if that was at all humanly possible for them.  He found himself understanding why Draco kept them as friends; two lumps like Crabbe and Goyle would only be good for protection.  The other Slytherins at the table were, more or less, consumed with their own dishes or idle chitchat to even give Draco a glance. Draco appeared not to mind being overlooked by others.  Even alone, he projected a superior aura, content in his own world. 

Harry recognized some of himself in Draco as he studied the blond intently.  Draco had the same distant stare he had perfected himself over the past year.  Only Draco seemed more empty, more isolated.  On further analysis, he thought no one else in the Slytherin house seemed much like the type to befriend, but rather to gain as an ally through fear and dominance.

Harry imagined Draco's home life equally cruel; having being raised around the Dark Arts, and to respect and follow a man like Lucius Malfoy.  If ever a man lived up to his surname in every sense, it was Lucius Malfoy.  Even if Draco did strut around all the time, spitting out vicious remarks, Harry did not feel he would ever live up to being a true Malfoy, and that he knew it as well. 

As if he heard Harry's thoughts from across The Great Hall, Draco looked up straight into those green eyes.  The cold emotionless stare expressed more words than his attitude would ever convey.  Out of reflex, Harry turned his head away, but returned the gaze again moments later, only to find Draco's had not wavered.  His presence appeared softened and worn, tired.  The invasive gray eyes held on with purpose; Harry felt smothered by their emotion: loneliness. 

Ron broke the connection with a hard slap on the back. 

"Hey!" He gave a questioning expression and turned around to see what was so interesting. 

"What are you looking at?  C'mon, we're going to be late, again." 

Harry piled all his books clumsily together and rushed off with the others to Divination, looking over his shoulder at the fading figure of Draco Malfoy.

*~*~*

**Author's Note: **If the prologue seemed hard to understand…The parts in italics were the dream, and everything in regular style, was just what the present Harry did and said.

At the end of the dream, Harry is finally able to touch Cedric because his dreams are taunting him.  That he is not allowed to change the past.

Chapter two will be up in a few days, and trust me, it is longer than this chapter and actually has some interesting events.  This chapter was only trying to portray what had been going on at Hogwarts from after fourth year through a month or so of sixth year.

And finally, I despise FFN and how things are uploaded onto their site.  I absolutely hate it!  And I am sick and tired of trying to put in the indentations and get the lyrics to be only one line…screw it all!!! *huffs*


	2. Chapter Two:Dueling

**Title:** Of Flesh and Blood

**Author:** Patris Vox and Nicole7137

**Rating:** PG 13 (for obvious reasons…*ahem*)

**Pairings:** Draco/Harry (later on I swear it!)

**Disclaimer:** We are not JK Rowling, therefore, we do not own any of the characters…Though we wouldn't mind owning Draco ;D

**Warning:** Harry is stupid…Draco is haat…therefore! This is a Draco/Harry slash! If you don't like the idea of two guys going at each other, then why the hell did you click on this story anyway?

**Thanks: **I didn't bother with this the first chapter, because frankly, FFN was pissing me off too much, and I realized I had forgotten it too late. Soooo sorry to the betas.

_Ashe_ – You have only returned chapter one to us =(  To put it bluntly, I thought you were the biggest bitch whenever you had something to say in your editing.  But, you had some good points most of the time, and you helped us a lot with how to word things. So…thanks I guess ^-^

_Betty_ – I love your comments, they help out a bunch, and you return your betaed copy fairly quick.  Thank you much indeed.

_Kate_ – Haha you're fun to talk to, you're like our fangirl that keeps up our spirits on OFAB ^-^ You get back the quickest of all.  Thanks so much for being there and listening to all my stupid questions, hey I need to ask them to someone right?

_Katie_ – You only returned chapter one to us…*grumble grumble grumble* I don't know what happened to you…You just like disappeared off the face of the earth, but you seemed to like what you had read of OFAB, so I guess I'll let you off the hook this time…

**Chapter 2: Dueling******

I let the beast in too soon, I don't know how to live

  
Without my hand on his throat; I fight him always and still

  
Oh darling, it's so sweet, you think you know how crazy 

  
How crazy I am

Fiona Apple

"Fast As You Can" 

A low, soft moan escaped the girl as she backed into a stonewall.  The darkened room shrouded their cravings; only the moon's light infiltrated across the tower, illuminating the pale boy.  His face drawn heavy with want, as his hands roamed along the dark beauty standing before him, trailing up to her neck.  Cupping her face, the blond took his time, savoring the imminent victory as he captured her lips in a sweet, tantalizing kiss that left the girl begging for more.

_She's mine…_

He took her bottom lip, sucking on it, eliciting another moan from her body, lust coursing through her veins.  Their eyes dilated steadily in unison with the boy's fondling, taking, devouring of the girl's life force.  A mere ghost of herself now, she grabbed his waist, wanting more friction, more contact.  Dropping his hands, briefly skimming over her breasts, the blond freed himself.  His eyes flickered with distaste, but he still pursued, venturing over the soft, feminine skin.  Rubbing her stomach in circular movements, he coasted his fingertips upward, further probing under her clothes with incredible ease.  His teeth showed only briefly as her body shook wanting, needing more.  His responsive hand ran across the lace under her skirt, now screaming to be violated and torn off.  Higher up, slender fingers grazed the back of her neck, fingering a sleek strand of her dark hair.  Clearly lost in a moment of pure ecstasy, she shut her eyes, losing all of herself that remained.  Wanting to keep her in this euphoric state of moaning helplessness, he leaned in further, grabbing her ear lobe in between his teeth, nibbling fervently.  Instinctively, her hand slipped between their aching, burning bodies, and stroked his inner thigh.  Pausing once again, anger emanated from his silver eyes as he grasped her frail wrists forcefully.  He turned to look into her brown eyes, expressing malevolence, and pinned her limbs up against the wall.

"Don't touch," the husky voice exhaled onto her hot skin, scorching it.

She nodded her head, accepting his demand, somewhat out of fear.  The boy's expression contorted, the passion darkened.  He kissed her powerfully, forcing his tongue into her mouth, invading her.  He ran his tongue along hers, inviting her once more to join the moment.  She submitted, allowing him to capture all of her.  He gripped locks of her hair, pulling at them; she blinked away the pain.  He brushed away the hair covering her neck to expose the flesh.  Arousal once more flickered in his eyes to her relief, as he rubbed his fingers over the skin, before sucking on the sweetness.  He trailed kisses over every inch of her neck, making her whimper in submission.  His teeth sank slightly into her skin with a new passion.  He felt her pulse quickening, taunting him.  Deciding to mark her body as his own, he sucked harder, smashing her body into his.  Between her erratic breathing and cries of pleasure, she faintly let out, "Draco".  In one swift movement, he pushed her away, disgust written across his face.  Referring to him as Draco gave more meaning to this endeavor than he wanted.  Calling him by his first name was, to him, a way of taking control.  Draco was not one to be stripped of power.  He shirked from her tainted touch.  Her hand reached out to him, as a questioning look graced her face.

"You're just a toy, Patil," Draco sneered, forcing her name out.  Wiping his mouth, he cast one last look at her.

Padma stood there in disbelief as Draco gathered up his cloak and exited silently from the room, neither having their desire fulfilled.  The room now felt empty and cold as she realized, that for the first time, her beauty was refused.  Padma clutched her neck where she felt the last traces of Draco and the new mark blossoming on her collar.  Turning from a hot red to a dark purple, it lay dead on her skin.

*~*~*

Double Potions had become an event.  Scuffles broke out more and more between the houses since sixth year began.  Over the past year, the divide between Gryffindor and Slytherin had widened to an undeniable length, each person wanting to prove where their loyalties stood.  Families split apart, choosing one side from the other.  Everyone knew He was building his strength and His followers, but no one knew when it would begin; even Draco had been left in the dark.  He may have been learning the Dark Arts since the moment he was able to walk, but he had not yet risen through the ranks to be branded as one of his minions.  He had always been comforted knowing that the future was planned for him, but now as the days grew shorter, uncertainty and fear began to reside in him.

*~*~*

Draco unpacked his quill and parchment silently, while everyone else in the room conversed with one another as the absence of the Potions professor became apparent.  Crabbe and Goyle stole the unoccupied seats that flanked Draco's own.  He overheard the two talking about how ravenous they were, and shook his head faintly, knowing they returned from lunch only moments before.   Happening to glance across the room to the Gryffindor section, he spotted three empty seats.  Draco rolled his eyes.  Snape finally swept into the room, unpredictably late.  He spoke hurriedly, trying to make up for lost time.  Words tumbled out of his mouth like a waterfall, telling the class what they needed for their next potion.  Draco could not help but smirk as the class dove frantically into their bags, unprepared.  As the professor continued his rant, the door flew open, interrupting him mid-sentence. Three figures emerged from the hallway, one of them unquestionably in the lead.  Draco studied the three that had entered so late, and waited for the harsh words to erupt from Snape.

At once he barked out, "What sad excuse do you have for joining my class today, late I might add."

The three spoke out all at once, their words jumbling together.  The leader of the group raised his hand to silence the others, and looked up towards the teacher with indignation dripping from his eyes.

"Sorry Professor, it's all my fault.  We got caught up in…"

"I have no doubt it was, Mister Potter.  However, I don't need to hear another lame excuse for your tardiness.   I'm sure you were on some new adventure that involves breaking several school rules, which you seem to think you're above.  Ten points from Gryffindor, each."

"I'll make sure that we don't disrupt your class anymore with our presence," Harry voiced sternly.

"No, I'm sure it would be too much for _you _and your friends to be bound to such a high expectation.  The famous Harry Potter, to be treated like just another person, wouldn't that be unheard of?  Everyone overlooks your mishaps and luck.  Luck was with you when your parents perished, just chance that you came out of the Chamber of Secrets alive, and that you let_ poor _Cedric Diggory die." 

The class remained stationary throughout Snape's outburst, only glancing at Harry to see his reaction to the harsh words.  With each passing remark, Harry shook more and more.  At the end of the eruption, every single student had their mouths open, unable to believe Snape dared speak about 'The Incident', as it was dubbed.  Even Draco could not fathom why their delayed entrance enraged the Potions teacher to that level.  Harry clenched his hands as if preparing to strike the professor.  Instead, he decided to verbalize his defense, but someone spoke before him.

"Its not Potter's fault Professor…" Draco had no chance to keep his mouth from slipping open and words emitting from it unconsciously. 

He paused and found everyone's eyes fixed on him.  He berated himself for getting carried away in the moment. How could he have been so easily manipulated by emotions? 

_Damnit Draco, keep your mouth shut.  Why do you care what Snape does to him?  You know he could care less about you.  Now how do you expect to slip out of this one?_

The blond's head snapped to attention with a hasty recovery, "…not his fault for being too caught up in his fame to notice that he's just like the rest of us…well, _some_ of us anyway.  Of course, what else could you expect from an orphan boy thrusted into a constant spotlight and showered with undeserved praise?"  The words seeped through Draco's self-patented smirk that coolly hung on his lips, reserved only to taunt Potter. 

Harry stormed over to Draco's seat, with an expression that voiced his uncontrollable rage.  The Slytherin acknowledged the threat; he slipped his slender fingers into his robes, grabbed his wand and revealed it.  Crabbe and Goyle pulled themselves out of their seats and lumbered over to Pansy and Millicent's table.  Neither Harry nor Draco bothered to notice.  The classroom, the other students, the noises, even Snape shattered away from them; leaving only each other.  It was all that mattered at the moment.  Draco directed his wand at Potter, awaiting any remark the boy had to offer. 

"Say it again Malfoy.  Tell me what you think of me," Harry fumed with anger.

"You're just an orphan boy who will take pity from anyone he can find."  Draco mocked, tilting back in his chair.

A second passed and now Harry had his wand raised towards the other boy; Draco stood up smoothly, pushing the chair out of his way.  He spoke and at the same time, Draco realized what he was planning on doing and began his own spell. 

_"Furnunculus!"___

_"Engorgio!"_

The spells sped forward to their targets, but instead, collided and propelled through the air at a blinding speed, towards the entrance of the classroom.  Snape followed the path of the spells, hoping they would hit one of the students.  Instead, the spell hit the worst possible person: Snape himself.  He grew disproportionately, his arms twice the size of his legs and boils erupted on every piece of his skin. 

At first, he bellowed in pain, but he soon regained control and roared, "_Finite incantatem_!" 

The class sat in utter shock once again.  Not only had Harry and Draco engaged in a duel, but they also hit the one person in the class that under no means should be messed with.

The world around them returned once more, all the gasps from the other students and Snape's lingering yelps of agony floating throughout the room rang in their ears.  Both boys stared at each other and then at Snape, almost in disbelief at what just transpired.  Each lowered their wand, taking a step back.  Harry did not dare look in Draco's direction, ashamed of letting his anger overtake him.  Draco leaned slightly onto his left leg, knowing he would not be punished harshly –if at all– for his actions.  Snape walked swiftly over to the two boys.  His face coloured with a deep red, and even his eyes seemed to have obtained the fury that blazed throughout him.  Not one word came from his mouth, as he grabbed the boys by their robes and pulled them out of the classroom, completely forgetting his lesson.

*~*~*

Snape dragged the students down a few hallways before realizing he just left his classroom full of teenagers to romp about and destroy his ingredients.  He paused scouring the hall for a place to stash the two until he could reach Dumbledore.  He opened one of the doors and shoved the two troublemakers in the room. 

Gritting his teeth, the professor said austerely, "Stay. Here." 

The oily-haired figure slammed the door shut, muttering a locking spell and trudged off to salvage whatever remained of his classroom. 

Draco stood in the dark room; baffled that Snape would even consider getting him in trouble.  

_Ok, so maybe he's slightly irritated that our charms hit him, but that gives him NO right to jeopardize a Malfoy this way!_

Draco noticed that Harry had edged away from him, more into the shadows of the dank, musty room.  Draco sidled up to the door.  He did not bother to try and open it, figuring Snape locked it.  The Slytherin stood a bit rigid before casually relaxing against the door and looking across the desolate room, keeping Harry's figure in the corner of his eye.  Dust had accumulated on the floor of the unused room over the years.  Nothing really occupied the room save for their two bodies and a chest of relatively good size.  Deciding they would be there for some time, Draco sauntered over to the chest and took a seat.  Harry now stood straight across from him.  He observed Harry leaning against the wall.  Even though shadows engulfed the room, Draco unmistakably perceived the other boy's hand rise up and slide across his damp cheek. 

_What an idiot.  I barely even said anything to him._

Still, he softened.  He had never lived without parents, if you could even call Lucius and Narcissa parents.  Lucius held only one purpose for Draco, to carry on the Malfoy name and legacy.  His mother, Narcissa, was only another frozen body inside his clandestine world.  Only there to keep up the appearance of a tight-knit family while others were in view.  Yet, they were still his blood relations.  They had been there every step Draco had taken from a boy, to preparing for the Dark Arts, but Potter never had the chance to grow up with a real family.  

"Look Potter…" Draco began, attempting to end the silence.

"Don't," Harry uttered coldly. 

Having been shot down once again by Harry, Draco shifted uncomfortably on the chest, wondering how long he would be trapped in the room.  The blond leaned back to rest against the wall and dropped his hands on his lap.  He closed his eyes, waiting for Snape or Dumbledore or anyone to break the silence, lecturing them on what their thoughtless decisions had invoked.  Draco breathed heavily, and heard a thud from Potter's direction.  He wrinkled his nose as the dust that lay on the ground rose towards him.  Opening one of his pale eyes, he found Harry slumped down on the floor, with his head resting on his bent legs.

_One…two…three…four_

Draco ticked off the seconds that lurched by in silence.  He tapped a tune instinctively with his fingers on his thigh to make the time seem almost sufferable.****

_This is no way to treat a Malfoy.   Honestly, leaving me in some dirty, forgotten room for hours with Potter, of all people.   Bloody Potter, too proud to have a decent conversation with me.   I can't stand this!  This is all his fault anyways!_

"If you weren't late, none of this would have happened,"the words echoed across the room, forsaking the calm. 

Harry looked over towards Draco; the Slytherin still had his eyes closed.

 "No, if you had kept your mouth shut for once, we'd still be in class." 

"I just said what everyone one else is afraid to," Draco spat out, lifting his head. 

"Why would anyone be afraid?"

"Look at you, Potter.  Everyone knows you're on the verge of losing it.  You have been for a while.  And I'm not going to tiptoe around you and all your issues.  You didn't save Diggory, which wasn't much of a loss anyways, and you didn't stop Voldemort.  And now everyone feels so sorry for you.  Get over yourself, Potter!" 

"You'd better stop there, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle aren't here to back you up, and no one else is here to stop me from kicking your arse." 

Draco returned the fierce stare that Potter bestowed upon him.  Once again, the two boys fell silent.  Draco delved deep into his thoughts; Harry's last remark lingered in his mind. 

_How dare he think I can't defend myself!  Who does he think he is?   I could totally kick his arse!  That would be the day…_

Draco stared at Harry, assessing the boy's appearance. 

_ Harry fucking Potter with his round, idiotic glasses.  How can he stand wearing those disgusting things?  Could use any number of spells to fix his eyesight, but no, he doesn't.  God-awful git.   No taste whatsoever.  And what the hell is he wearing?!  An oversized plaid shirt and filthy jeans?   Who dresses him?  Although, it does match his hair.  Appalling, to say the least.   Does he not care what others think of him?   And has he EVERheard of a comb and gel? Obviously…_

"Why?" Harry's sudden questioning interrupted Draco's evaluation of his less than stunning features. 

"Why what?"  His voice saturated with annoyance

"Why are you still like this to me?" 

He felt it was time for a smirk,  "Because that's just how it is.  I hate you.  You hate me.  It's been like this for years." 

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Harry penetrated more. 

"No, not really.  It keeps me going, makes me work harder.  To be better than _you_, and besides, I have a reputation to uphold.  And let's not forget that you're the one that chose this," the words may have been harsh, but there was no venom in Draco's voice. 

"I never chose this!" 

The pale boy pushed himself off the chest, "Yes, I clearly remember trying to be your friend and you refused me.  _Embarrassed_ me.  Like I wasn't good enough for you and your friendship." 

"You insulted Ron in the process!  I didn't want to be friends with someone who would do that." The boy's face contorted into antipathy. 

"I didn't want to be friends with the Weasel, I wanted to be friends with you." Draco's voice now singed with hotness. 

Harry squirmed around on the floor, unsure of what to say.  Draco ran his hand through his hair, frustrated that Harry held so much power over his emotions, and turned his head away.  He did not want his temper to take over again.  Malfoys were all about control.  He heard the other boy stand up and brush himself off. 

Harry took a few cautious steps towards him, forcing Draco to look over, "If you could see past money and blood, Malfoy, maybe we could have been friends." 

"And if you weren't so perfect and noble, maybe I'd still want to be your friend! You think you're not the only one who feels…"

The door creaked open.  A tall figure stepped in.

The man spoke, "Gentlemen…" 

Immediately, Draco knew who it was and slumped down onto the chest, expressing his dislike.  Dumbledore eyed the two boys, the twinkle extinguished from them.  The Slytherin turned to Harry, who had become fascinated with the floor, and darted his glare back towards the headmaster.

 "You know why you're in here, right?" 

Both nodded their head and replied, "Yes" in unison. 

"These fights cannot keep disrupting classes.  I thought both of you matured over last summer, but apparently not." 

The two boys gave each other menacing looks.

 "Now since you two cannot work out this disagreement on your own, Professor Snape and I have devised a plan to help you settle the dispute once and for all.  Rest assured, you will not have detention for your actions, and all you will have to do is simply drink a potion concocted by Professor Snape.  The effects will be somewhat unnerving at first, but after awhile, you will grow accustomed to them." 

Draco's eyes glazed over with apprehension. 

_The old coot will go as far as that to maintain order?  Father will never permit this._

 He took a fleeting glance over towards Harry and saw a blank expression settling on the boy's face. 

"Sir…exactly what kind of potion are we going to take?" Potter questioned anxiously. 

Draco eyed Dumbledore expectantly, but only a slight smile graced the old man's lips.  The twinkle returned.

**Author's Note: **Hehe, maybe it's me but I found this chapter to be boring as well.  Or it could just be that I've read through it so many times.  Who knows, but I must say, my favorite sentence is: _Snape dragged the students down a few hallways before realizing he just left his classroom full of teenagers to romp about and destroy his ingredients.   _I think it's because of the word 'romp' cracks me up every time.

Hmmm…What's to come.  Well, chapter three has been sent off to the betas for some days now, don't have a clue when I'll get that back.  It is by far longer than chapter one and two put together, around 7,000-7,500.  Expect from chapter three on to be huge ass chapters.  I'm currently working on chapter four, some of it is written out, some of it is in outline form and all that put together is over 5,000 words.  I'm betting that it's going to be around 10,000 or so.  

Highlights of chapter three: some Herbology scene, hahaha that cracks me up as well ^-^ Draco and Harry go and take the potion.  My writing runs far far away in description because of this, it should all be very interesting.

Anyway, go and review and make Nicole and me (Sara) happy!


	3. Chapter Three:Empathy

**Title:** Of Flesh and Blood

**Author:** Patris Vox and Nicole7137

**Rating:** PG 13 (Because I said so! Meh…here comes the bloody dagger!!)

**Pairings:** Draco/Harry (later on I swear it!)

**Disclaimer:** We are not JK Rowling, therefore, we do not own any of the characters…Though we wouldn't mind owning Draco ;D

**Warning:** Harry is stupid…Draco is haat…therefore! This is a Draco/Harry slash! If you don't like the idea of two guys going at each other, then why the hell did you click on this story anyway?

**Thanks: **

_Betty_ – You are our savior! Don't know what we would do without you…well, I can think of one thing; make a poorly written story. You changed all of the sentences I hated and now I love them and I love you!

_Kate_ – You still rock. You know that ^-^ and I'm glad your wisdom teeth are all better now. Remember, pills are our friends. Yay! Go fangirl go! Thanks for being loyal and still willing to talk to me 0.0 and trying to help me with my questions. Funny, you'd think I would run out of questions that are so difficult and yet so stupid, but oh no, they just keep on coming don't they?

*~*~*

**Chapter Three: Empathy**

Bleed out my blood 

Skin off my skin 

Solder the wire 

Transformation 

Take my body and 

Release me from this cage

Papa Roach

"Singular Indestructible Droid"

"Sir…exactly what kind of potion are we going to take?" Harry questioned anxiously.

The boy glanced at the other, curious to know if his worries were justified. As Draco's calculating eyes focused on Dumbledore warily, Harry knew they were.

Dumbledore drew a breath before speaking, "The potion is complex, but the idea is very basic. It will cause you to be completely open, allowing you to fully understand one another. An empathy potion if you will. Subconsciously, you will allow the other to enter your mind; they will know every thing about you because your lives will be joined. I believe that misinterpretation is the basis of your feud. The effects of the potion will last as long as necessary."

Harry hung his head in resignation. He knew he deserved this retribution; so many years had passed since their quarrel began, and they were not even close to finding a resolution themselves. Their fights now felt half-hearted, like they fought because they were supposed to. Harry secretly welcomed a truce. 

The boys concentrated on each word, as the old man continued, "Now neither of you are allowed to speak a word of this to other students. All teachers will be aware of your, impending condition."

"Why can't we tell anyone?" Harry immediately thought of Ron and Hermione. Even if he was being distant with them, he knew he could not keep such a thing like this secret for very long.

"Well Harry, they could inadvertently alter the potion's outcome, prolonging it, or even worse."

"My father will hear about this atrocity!" Malfoy fumed, still resting on the trunk.

"He has every right to know what new predicament you've gotten yourself into this time, Mr. Malfoy." The blond boy pierced Dumbledore with an offending stare, recalling his father's threats of what would happen if he got in trouble one more time. Draco huffed.

"Both of you will report to my office before dinner tonight. I must stress the importance of keeping this venture quiet," Dumbledore pulled out a gold watch, glancing at it, "I believe there is still some time left for you to attend class. I will see you later tonight in my office then."

The man's words soaked into Harry as he followed Draco and Dumbledore out of the room. It finally hit the boy, dawning on him that now, no matter what; he would be bound to the Slytherin. The arrogant prick would know him through and through. Harry swallowed hard.

_This is going to be one long year…_

*~*~*

"Today class, we're going to be learning hands on how to care for the Torn Lover. This plant is very rare and grows only in one area of England. There's quite an interesting myth behind it. Harry? What's your excuse this time?"

"I…had a talk with Professor Dumbledore," Harry walked into the greenhouse, taking his spot next to Ron.

"Anyway, as I was saying about the myth, supposedly, a witch that lived in the seventeenth century fell in love with one of the Muggles of her village. They spent years together in secrecy; a forbidden love blossomed between the two. One day, the Muggle betrayed her to the rest of his world, proclaiming she was a witch. She was judged and convicted of witchcraft. She could easily have escaped with her life, but was so crushed by what he did, she allowed herself to be burned at the stake. From her ashes grew the first generation of this plant. One can identify the plant easily, because its leaves and blooms are completely black."

"Isn't there some significance to it being black?" Neville questioned.

"Very good Neville! Five points to Gryffindor. Well, the woman was in so much despair, that her soul died and the colour of the plant is said to represent this. The water that trickles down from the hearts symbolize her sorrow, the plants have never stopped crying," the professor sighed heavily. 

"When they first sprout, there is only one heart in the centre of the plant. As it matures, the colour turns from a pale green to the colour you see now, an incredibly rich black. If you look closer at each of the specimens, you will find that the colour does another trick as well. All the light that hits any part of the leaves is devoured. So, the plant does not actually reflect any light. There's only a few known species of plants that are able to do such a thing, they're located in the Caligaceae family. I suggest you commit that to memory," she was interrupted briefly with the scribbling of quills on parchment, "Now, where was I? Oh yes, when the Torn Lover is in full growth, the heart splits into two. This symbolizes the end of the relationship in the myth. Neither flower mends itself; they remain broken. Now, this plant is highly sought after because of its magical properties. Love seems to be the answer for almost everything. The Torn Lover is used in a variety of potions, however, never in a healing mixture. Each potion needs a different strength of the properties for them to work, so if one were to brew it properly, they would take special note of the plant's physical being before adding it in. That is to say, they would pay attention to minor details, like if the heart was ripped unevenly to such a point the jagged edges would be razor sharp, or how much the plant weeps. If one were to concoct a mood lifting potion, they would only need the slightest of dew that forms around the edges of the hearts on particular plants, anymore than that would cause the potion to react terribly wrong; the person would suffer from the purest form of despair. The Torn Lover is highly complex and has yet to be replicated at this moment, a pity really. Each specimen has been grown in the exact spot where the first Torn Lover sprang up so many years ago."

Professor Sprout stepped up to the table, now ready to instruct her students on the day's work, "Picture this plant as your best mate for the rest of class. A best mate that just has just gone through a horrible experience. Now, you will need to give any and all of your attention to your Torn Lover. Do anything you would if one of your true friends were in this exact position, soft-spoken words, physical affection, and baby talk if you so desire. Off you go!"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other briefly, before plunging into much needed questioning. 

"What did Professor Dumbledore say Harry? I certainly hope you didn't lose anymore points from Gryffindor," Hermione said.

"He just looked disappointed, and no, no points were taken away," Harry said impassively.

"Well, that's rather fortunate! You'd think they'd let me get away with hexing Malfoy too? …Yes, you're a pretty little thing aren't you?" Ron tended to his wilting plant.

"Don't be absurd Ron!" Hermione smiled, playfully punching Ron's shoulder. "Anyways, wasn't that story absolutely fascinating? I mean, a love so powerful that it would make someone give up their own life. Wow. I wonder why he betrayed her like that…"

"Good plant, nice plant," Harry patted the plants leaves, blatantly ignoring Hermione.

Ron tapped his foot twice before deciding to congratulate Neville for his point-winning question, already bored of tending to his Torn Lover. The smaller boy stood there idly, his hand caressing the damp leaves. Before Harry's own eyes, the plant changed. His eyes glazed over in shock, and darted across the room momentarily with his mouth slacked open in disbelief before they rested back on the plant.

_I don't believe this…_

The tears had fully stopped and it seemed that the black leaves had lightened up slightly. Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head from side to side.

_It always has to be me, doesn't it?_

The boy dropped his hand from the leaves, hitting the table. Craning his neck for a full view of the room, Harry was delighted to find that the only two not preoccupied with their plant were Ron and Neville. Seeing that he could be caught with this slightly different Torn Lover at any moment, he ran through the few options he had to get rid of the plant. He knew he could not afford being known as The Boy Who Lived And Changed Plants By A Mere Touch. Biting his lip, Harry could not devise a better plan on such short notice, and resorted to trading Ron's plant for his. He paid close attention to what his hands brushed against; one tainted plant was more than enough. He nervously looked around; making sure no one had seen what he had done.

"I'll be right back, I ,uhm, gottagodosomethingrealquick," Harry excused himself from the near disaster, high tailing it to the other end of the greenhouse.

Ron headed back, returning to pretend that he cared the slightest for the weeping plant, "What the…? Hermione, what do you make of this? C'mon, how can I mess up a plant?"

"…I don't think you messed it up, Ron. PROFESSOR SPROUT!" Hermione scanned the room for the teacher.

"What is it? Merlin! What did you do Ron?" 

"I was just…you know…just, just turning my back to it for a second asking Neville how to care for the plant properly and then I turned around and it was just…just weird looking," Ron tried explaining the situation, failing miserably.

"What's going on here? Whoa Ron!" Harry came back to the table, pointing his finger at the altered Torn Lover, his voice resounded with fake bewilderment, "What did you do to, uhh, **your** plant?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know!" he placed his hand around his mouth, cupping it away from the plant; his voice fell to a hushed whisper, "I think it's just a sensitive plant."

Harry smiled at Ron's remark. He felt somewhat guilty for forcing the plant onto Ron, but it faded, as the redhead became the centre of attention. The rest of the students in Herbology were now commenting on how much healthier it looked; the leaves appeared to had taken on a lighter shade of black. A faint blaze formed around the two heart-shaped flowers.

Professor Sprout, puzzled on how the plant was able to change from its known appearance to this new specimen that laid before her, took the pot from Ron and set it aside on a desk that rested near the door; mentally noting to take it to the headmaster after classes.

Hermione studied Harry for the remainder of Herbology out of the corner of her eye. She sensed something perplexing in the boy's response to Ron's plant. Harry caught on to her suspicions. She was not passing off her glares as meaningless as she had done in the past. The boy tried harder to look as if he had nothing to do with "Ron's" plant, making sure he still did not touch his new Torn Lover. Ron's face beamed with pride; new praises were bestowed upon him endlessly.

Harry turned to his friend; his mind finally came up with an idea to shake off Hermione, "Hey Ron, anything interesting happen when Snape took me out of the room?"

"Oh! Thanks for reminding me! I was going to tell you earlier, but well, you know what happened. Anyway, you shoulda seen it Harry! All hell broke loose!"

"It was most distressing, chaos everywhere. Insane to say the least," Hermione piped in.

"Bloody hell! Not as insane as Snape looked after being hit with those curses! I could have sworn he was going to perform all three Unforgivable Curses on you two! Anyway, that's beside the point. Well, it all started with Crabbe and Goyle grabbing Dean, they were too hungry to wait for dinner, I'm guessin'. Seamus was just being Seamus and you know how crazy that can get. He came to the rescue for Dean with Neville lagging behind him. Let's just say, even Neville is better with a wand than those two slimy Slytherin gits. It went downhill from there though. The Slytherins instigated the huge fight and what kind of Gryffindor would turn down the perfect opportunity to hex them?" Ron smiled mischievously, pausing to catch a breath before continuing, "Gryffindor would've won o' course, but luck would have it, Snape barged in at the crucial turning point, deducting points from Gryffindor right and left."

Hermione sighed at the thought of all those points lost and turned to Harry. "It was horrible. _Luckily_, no one was expelled," her gaze shifted onto Seamus and shook her head in disgrace in sync with the roll of her eyes.

"I missed all that to be stuck in a room with Malfoy?"

A few minutes later, Professor Sprout dismissed their class. As they headed out of the greenhouse, Harry excused himself, saying he needed to go to the bathroom _alone_. Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion about the emphasis of "_alone_," but explained that she needed to do some research in the library for Transfiguration, and that she would meet them for dinner as usual. Ron shrugged off their absences, the remaining Herbology students formed a tight circle around him as he walked, asking him to retell the story of changing the plant with a mere touch of his hand.

*~*~*

Snape stood peering down his enormous cauldron. His hand twirled the laden spoon counter clockwise. Adding a bit of Jobberknoll feathers to the concoction, he turned around to grab a few more ingredients. Snape set down the bicorn horn powder and dragon's heart carefully. Furious that he was spending his free time making a potion for Potter, he threw down the book. Upon impact, vials shuttered, some fell off the table. Groaning, Snape bent over to cram the fallen ingredients back into their designated bottles.

A jar tipped over, spilling its contents. The last of Snape's stash of frozen Ashwinder eggs rolled precariously close to the edge of a shelf above the cauldron. The eggs went over the side, and plopped furtively into the animated cauldron. Snape stood up and proceeded with the potion, adding the bicorn horn powder, unaware of what had happened.

Snape had never made this specific potion before, but as he introduced the final component of the potion, it looked thicker than described in the book. He figured that it was just another misprint on the book's behalf.

"Stupid book," the Potions Master mumbled.

*~*~*

"Welcome gentlemen," Dumbledore acknowledged the two figures entering with a slight smile.

He strode out from behind his desk to greet the approaching students. Draco came in first, his eyes darting wildly, betraying his cool exterior and making him look like a bewildered child. Pictures of old headmasters and headmistresses covered the room's walls; most were sleeping relentlessly, but some walked from painting to painting mumbling incoherently. A spiral staircase rose to the ceiling and, undeniably, a secret room. Snape stood behind the stairs with his right foot pressed against the wall. With his arms folded across his chest, he peered through the greasy strands of hair covering his face. Snape's hooked nose curved just above his pursed, chapped lips. 

The blond noticed two wooden chairs that stood before the desk; he took the one on the left, the furthest away from Dumbledore. Harry came in and smiled softly; the room had not changed since the first time he saw it, as if immune to time. He sat reluctantly next to Malfoy. Harry sighed heavily, edging away from the other boy. Fawkes' golden claws ripped into the corner of the wood. His feathers spread out across the surface and a few rested on two bejeweled goblets. The Phoenix squawked softly, gaining the boys' attention; their gaze lay upon the two cups. Draco, tense about the potion, swallowed hard, triggering Harry to take notice of him. The blond gripped the armrests, sitting rigid in his chair; his hands were whiter than usual. Glaring at Harry threateningly, he pried his right hand away from the chair and ran it through his hair hastily.

"Well, now, I don't think there's any point in drawing this out, so let's get down to business, shall we?" Dumbledore pointed towards the two glasses filled with the empathy potion, "Now the first part is a tad macabre, so let's get it over with."

Dumbledore revealed a silver-handled dagger from his cloak. "The potion requires a few drops of each of your blood. To bind yourselves, you must draw blood from the other and drink it mixed with your potion."

Harry and Draco kept eye contact with each other, daring the other to look away. 

"Uhhhhhhh…right." 

"Once you draw the blood, say '_Affligo Omnis Murus_'," Harry pushed himself from the chair resolutely, walking over to Dumbledore. 

Holding out his right hand, he awaited the knife to fall into his possession. Closing his grip around the handle, he turned, heading towards Malfoy. Harry grabbed for his wrist, but it would not budge from the armrest.

"Don't be difficult, Malfoy!"

"I swear, if you lay another hand on me, I'll make you wish you had never-"

"Draco Malfoy. No threats are allowed in this room. Now, the sooner you comply, the quicker you can leave and have dinner."

Draco deliberated, and then turned his left hand over, exposing his palm. He eyed Harry as the boy's hand grasped his own. To Harry, Malfoy's hand felt cold, almost like ice, but softer than any silk. He ran his thumb up and down the palm, enjoying the feel of the non-calloused skin. Harry eyes tore into Draco's. 

"Well, Potter? Stop fondling me and get on with it," Malfoy's anxiety vacated, his harsh words shielded him from sentiment.

Harry lifted the dagger slightly and proceeded to drag it across the delicate skin.

"_Affligo Omnis Murus_."

The blond drew in a quick breath to hold in any sound of his pain. Harry held the boy's wrist as Dumbledore walked over, handing a goblet to him. The Gryffindor set down the dagger on one of Malfoy's armrests before accepting the cup. Draco's wound filled with blood rapidly and trickled down his wrist, staining Harry's fingers faintly. The blood seeped into the potion, as he ran the rim of the goblet along Malfoy's skin. The color changed from a crystal, luminous blue to a dark crimson, as more blood mixed with the potion.

Draco released his hand from Harry's, closing it tightly into a fist.

"Are you just going to let me bleed to death?" Draco snapped at Dumbledore boldly.

With a flick of his wrist, two small red cloths appeared in the old man's hands. Draco stood up and snatched one of the cloths from Dumbledore's grasp. Hastily wrapping it around his wound, he turned back to Harry.

With his right hand, he seized the dagger. No trace of his blood remained on the blade; it looked as if it had never been used. With his injured, left hand, Malfoy pulled at Harry's wrist. He twisted the boy's arm effortlessly, the palm facing the point of the dagger. Harry's hand shook a little. As if Draco felt the newly induced fear radiating off Harry, his lips parted, exposing a sadistic smile. With their eyes fixed on each other, Draco ran the knife against Harry's flesh. He dug the blade in deeper than needed, which made Harry whimper through clenched teeth.

"_Affligo Omnis Murus_," he seethed.

Harry's blood erupted profusely from the fresh wound. Malfoy handed the dagger back to Dumbledore and picked up the goblet. He scooped up the blood until his own cup turned the deepest of crimson. The Slytherin withdrew his hand from Harry's wrist, taking a few steps back. The two swirled their cups, mixing any last traces of blood into the concoction. Dumbledore urged the two to drink with a motion of his hand; Harry brushed his lips against the rim, allowing the liquid to fill his mouth.

Inside his mouth, it crept into every crevice. As Harry tried to swallow, he gagged on the disgusting liquid. He had never tasted anything quite as sickening. With his mouth closed tightly, Harry held his breath and attempted once more to take in the potion. A few tears welled up in his eyes; Harry regained the courage to finish his drink, knowing the embarrassment of spitting it out would be worse. The boy sensed the potion coating his throat, eating away at the sides like acid. His heartbeat quickened as the liquid travelled down to his stomach. Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy staring at him.

Draco's goblet rested back on the table, empty; he appeared unaffected, except for a slight shake in his body. Harry peered into his own, and to his revulsion, more of the awful brew remained. He took the last swig, emptying the cup. Shuddering softly as the potion raced through his body, he set the goblet onto the table. His stomach felt frozen, almost numb. Malfoy snickered quietly, to avoid any ramifications. 

"I suggest you both have something to eat and get a good night's sleep. The first day is going to be very rough."

Harry took a step forward toward Dumbledore and snatched the remaining cloth from the old man, and wrapped it tightly around his palm. Malfoy headed toward the door, exiting without a sound. Taking the boy's lead he left the office, closing the door behind him.

Dumbledore turned to Snape. "I'm worried that we went about this all wrong, Severus."

"Well, they're not going to do it themselves. They're both too proud. Especially Potter."

"I'm betraying Harry's trust. He has no idea of what the future holds. I've known ever since he was a baby. He should know, but I don't think he is ready. I know it's his destiny, but I wish I could take it all away."

"What about Draco? It's his fate, too."

"Yes. Draco. I just hope they can pull each other through this. I don't want to even think about what will happen if this fails."

Snape bowed his head in contemplation. He knew what was going to happen, what was happening already. The Mark had been calling him for over a year now. No matter how hard he tried to erase his past, his arm would always betray the secrets he buried years ago.

"It has to work." Snape finally concluded.

*~*~*

As Harry entered the Great Hall several steps behind Malfoy, he began to feel the influence of the potion. Wherever the liquid travelled in his body, it froze. His nerves numbed quickly, and felt as if they were about to shatter. Harry's step faltered slightly as he searched for the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione had been waiting for his appearance ever since he told them he was going to the restroom and never came back. Both saw Harry staggering across the hall, scanning the tables, like a small child lost in a large store. They both waved at Harry, motioning for him to come sit down. Harry's vision slightly blurred around the edges, but he managed to walk over successfully to the table. He smiled meekly, hiding his left hand under his robe and attempted to behave normally. Ron and Hermione sat with their backs to the wall, both wondering what Harry had been doing.

"Where have you been? Did you get detention? I knew you would!" Hermione questioned, observing Malfoy sitting down to his table. 

"Dumbledore just wanted to talk, again…" Harry muttered, taking his seat and averting the questioning looks.

"Hey, Harry! You missed it today! I totally kicked Crabbe and Goyles' fat arses in Potions! Thanks for getting rid of Snape!" Seamus shouted with a mouthful of food, raising his glass to Harry.

Harry did not hear Seamus' appraisal, only the potion flooding his system. He knew Malfoy's blood was somehow intertwining with his own, connecting them. The boy looked down at the table, closing his eyes to regain poseur. All of a sudden, the room began to spin and he felt light-headed. He gripped the edge of the table to steady himself. The coolness of the wood crept under his skin, and he recoiled from the intense sensitivity. Beads of sweat sprang from his forehead; his body worked overtime to expel the foreign substance. The more his body fought the potion, the more it entangled itself with his blood, his life. A sharp pain shot through his stomach, as he felt his insides constricting; the numbness had dissipated utterly. All was overshadowed by what materialized in his head. Electricity sparked throughout, forming thoughts, feelings, experiences he could not comprehend. Sixteen years flashed before him, condensed into mere minutes with a million different visions dancing in his mind's eye.

In a distant voice, he heard Ron.

"Harry! Are you okay? You look awful!"

Images spun incessantly through his vision, and contorted, melting into his own. 

_He saw his old cupboard, but inside it was decorated lavishly with maroon drapes hanging elegantly on all the windows that lined up against one wall. The cupboard faded to black, and he saw a boy sitting on a man's lap in a room filled with books, some looking as if they would crumble under the slightest breeze. A book lay before them as a soft, firm voice explained how a mere baby defeated a powerful and highly respected wizard. The boy felt a tinge of hope; dreams of power took root. The man laughed, his long, pale hair wavered against his chest._

_"You can be powerful, my son. You just need the right allies."_

_Another scene played out, forcing the others to fade into the past. His cheeks drown in his own tears; his body shook uncontrollably, fear overpowering everything else. A familiar voice rose up outside the door._

_"He's a failure Narcissa and you know it!"_

_"He's just a child, let him make mistakes."_

_"No son of mine-"_

_He felt his hands moving on their own, closing the door from its cracked position, his head unable to withstand anymore. He knew he was a failure, not being able to even remotely measure up to his great father. He felt useless, weak, most of all, alone. It seemed whatever he did, it was never enough to please his father. He knew the school year was just around the corner, there he would prove that he was born into the family for a reason. He would no longer be just a child, but a man, a great man. Greater than his father if he desired, and he truly craved that most of all. He would obtain more power than any man before him; he would wield under his palm wealth beyond even his own dreams. People would obey his command; no one would possibly dare tempt his wrath. All for just one smile to grace the lips of his father. It would always be for him; he knew that is what kind of life his father wanted for him._

Harry's mind came into his power once more. Even so, all the images, tastes, sounds that echoed in his head, still intoxicated his senses. His mind did not have the capacity to sort through this second life that now burdened him. Harry felt himself shutting down; his eyes faded to glazed, lifeless orbs. Unaware of the surroundings, he lifted both hands to his head, avoiding falling over in exhaustion. Harry knew he had to get out of the room as soon as possible. He could not think straight, the slightest shifting of bodies pounded in his ears. Each conversation chimed clearly, tongues slurred words. Bites taken of various meats and pastries and the grinding of all the food forced Harry to disregard any thoughts of eating. Lips smacked together, and each droplet of saliva boomed like canons as they made their descent to the table or floor. Each drop crashing at different times became tidal waves, thrashing relentlessly against the wood. People tapped their feet anxiously. The breaths people took in were as if they were just learning how to breathe. They were ragged and unsteady, some short, others unbearably long. With the intense enhancement of his hearing, Harry was terrified to open his eyes, but reluctantly slid his hands slowly down his face, onto the table. Whatever he had expected, it was nothing compared to what lay before him.

The colours were too vivid for even an artist to portray. The table's mahogany blazed defiantly, suffusing his skin, tinting it to a light shade of tan. A brown set of eyes focused on him. Harry saw the concern and warmth etched into each fracture of colour, most of all; love. He would have smiled, but the message never made it to his lips. The brown eyes shone more alive than before, a haze surrounding them, slowly devouring the rest of the face, then the whole of the body. He realized he had been staring at Hermione, and now, now she seemed to be glowing. The light must have been contagious, the two sitting next to her, turned a shade darker, but still illuminated. Harry watched as the glow travelled down the Gryffindor table, hopped over to Ravenclaw, surged over Hufflepuff, and finally rested as the last Slytherin ignited in his own faint purple mist. Turning back to his friends, Hermione blazed at a higher level than Ron, but she did not have a hint of colour, she simply lit up in a blinding light, much like an angel. Ron's eyes were coated in gold, a duller, but no less intense aura. He seemed older than any age, like his being had been in existence since the dawn of time. His eyes hinted at tales long forgotten, but offered nothing more. Harry's eyes burned, blinded by the intensity of the colours and light. Harry closed them briefly, but the images swirled together in a seemingly endless cavern, that only grew with more visions as the second fell into perpetuity. He felt his reflexes slowing down. His opened his eyes reluctantly; Hermione's mouth moved, but the other sounds seemed to swallow her voice, smothering her.

Feeling like he would pass out any moment, Harry knew he had to make his exit and quick. He managed to pull himself away from the table. His legs seemed to be a separate entity from his body, guiding him to the corridor. They turned towards the stairs, outside the Great Hall. The walls in the corridor expanded and contracted, breathing like a living creature. He heard shaky breathing coming from behind.

"Do you see it as well?" a voice boomed, but in reality, hardly reached a whisper.

Harry's eyes cracked, the tone all too familiar, but the usual condescending attitude was nowhere to be found. Harry turned around slowly to Draco. He blinked; the boy was all but engulfed with a solid haze of crimson, outlined within a faint, coruscate silver. Draco stood rigid; his eyes wide open in disbelief. Harry lit up the entire hallway, light emanated off his body, blinding him. Reds and golds bounced off the walls, as Draco backed away, shielding his vision. Eradicating all eye contact, he retreated down a corridor. Harry's mind raced, all his thoughts jumbled into one. Escape ran through his mind once more; he headed for the Gryffindor Tower.

Harry climbed the stairs slowly but surely, his grasp weakening on the rail with each passing moment. Being away from the Great Hall made no difference, he forgot about the hundreds of paintings that overtook the walls. Their incessant chattering seemed worse as each sound bounded off the sides, oscillating into one another. They hit Harry at all angles; he was safe nowhere. As Harry made his way up the stairs, a familiar short, squat knight came into view.

"HEY! FIGHT ME! FIGHT ME YOU DIRTY ROGUE!"

Sir Cadogan had wandered from his painting like usual and was prodding a sleeping old man with his sword in another. The frame was outlined in gray and yellow; each colour struggled for control. The man opened his eyes briefly from his slumber to find the knight waving his sword around violently. He quickly snapped his eyes closed and pretended to snore loudly, disregarding the man's attempts.

"BATTLE!!!" screamed the little knight, as he charged around the sleeping man.

Two elderly women stood paintings down, gossiping excitedly.

Sir Cadogan grew weary of the sleeping man and turned to the women with a perverted smile.

"HARLOTS! I SHALL SMITE THEE!" He screamed wildly, brandishing his long sword, and ran off down the hallway with a yellow trail chasing him towards the screaming women.

"Errr…" Harry blinked, "Uhmmm…"

He turned around, cupping his ears from the thundering voices, but it was useless. In fact, it only increased the noise, as it allowed him to hear the blood rushing in his veins in sync with the deep rhythmic beating of his heart.

Suddenly, Harry was sprawled on the floor with no recollection how. He felt his body lurching in the direction of his feet. His eyes only perceived a change in direction. It took a few seconds for Harry to fit the pieces together to realize the staircase he had been on was moving.

Harry stumbled in front of a painting, abandoning the swinging, marble staircases. A lady of rather large size was sitting in an elegant dress decorated in all shades of pink imaginable. Her hair styled in tight ringlets around her face and loose curls and waves everywhere else. This painting had an extremely dim glow of rose that barely passed around the edges. The lady's eyes were now downcast, looking at the boy fondly.

"Password my dear?" she urged softly as Harry stood there, looking as if he were about to collapse.

"Oh, uhh…Bardus Oraculum," his voice pounded in his head.

Harry watched as the painting moved aside, unveiling the entrance to the Common room. Somehow he made it up to his room, he felt home; his scent marked ubiquitously. He collapsed face first onto his bed, unable to move a single inch, all his energy now finally spent. Harry's eyes fluttered shut, leaving this enhanced reality for a more favourable, even slightly predictable one. He exhaled, losing all touch with consciousness as his mind began to wander towards a boy whose skin was so pale, that it rivalled that of the moon's, with blonde hair so unnatural and styled to fit against each curve indefinitely. His touch so soft, but iced over with indifference, hands kept in immaculate condition. Whose eyes bore into his own like a summer storm, sharp with electrical energy. The Slytherin, who went by one name, and that name only.

*~*~*

"Well that was weird!" Dean laughed and turned to the other Gryffindors, who sat wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

"Yeah, what happened? Did I miss something?" Ron looked around the Hall to find the source of Harry's distress.

A few moments passed and Ron stood up to leave. Hermione grabbed his forearm.

"I think he needs to be alone, Ron. He looked really sick. He probably just went to bed."

Ron shrugged and nodded, sitting back down to finish his dessert.

Hermione sat quietly for the rest of dinner, worried about Harry. She hoped she had been right when telling Ron that he went to bed. Her hand reached out, picking up a cloth she failed to notice sooner. It felt slightly damp to the touch. As she pulled the cloth away from her hand, her eyes lit up in alarm at her palm, a light red tinted her skin. Hermione tried putting together why Harry would say he needed to go to the bathroom alone, not come back for hours until after dinner started, and then just get up and leave not saying a word, and dropping a red cloth that was coated in something she was unsure of. It did not make sense to her; neither did the memory of Malfoy walking out of the Great Hall in the same daze as Harry just seconds after the Gryffindor. It kept replaying in her head. Something was not clicking, there was something missing. Hermione folded the cloth and pocketed it.

*~*~*

Harry woke with a start; visions of a graveyard plagued his subconscious once more. But this dream was unlike the all the others; Harry had not tried to save Cedric. Instead, a slender boy with sleek blonde hair fell in his place. Harry could still feel the smooth, cold hands in his own, as sharp pains throughout his body restored time. His head pounded, erupting in pain. Running his hand up to his head, gripping his hair, he checked the clock.

The silver hands pointed towards _reverie_.

Harry stretched, lifting his arms above his head. In response, his mouth fell into a yawn. The Gryffindor's eyes traveled down onto his lap; somehow his sheets had been pulled over him. Scratching his bedraggled hair, he shrugged.

Under the sheets, his body felt clammy; he threw them back. The boy rested his feet out upon the cold flooring. It felt nice against his skin. Harry's eyes flickered; the events during dinner came flooding back in a haze. He tried to recall what had transpired earlier. 

Ron snapped him out of his concentration; he had turned over, facing Harry, letting out a satisfied snore.

The Gryffindor peered out into his sleeping quarters, and looked at the other beds. Ron lay on his stomach with his head shoved into his pillow. Dean lay curled up with his favorite stuffed dragon, Bubbles. Neville had pulled his covers completely over his body; a blanketed lump slept in the center of the bed.

An unfamiliar presence resonated throughout the room.

_Seamus…_

Seamus was sprawled out on his stomach, drooling; his pillow already thrown off the bed like usual. Everything appeared normal, but something was amiss.

"Hello?" he called out softly, wanting to smack himself afterwards for being so slow.

No one replied.

Harry tried to ignore the feeling of being watched, and got off the bed fully, becoming increasingly aware of just how much his head ached.  Harry rubbed his eyes, the throbbing only increased.  Closing the door, he trotted across the stone with his arms clutching his chest, his feet numbing with each stride.  

The door closed behind him as he stepped into the bathroom.  Harry looked towards the sinks and the mirror that hung across the wall.  Rolling his eyes, his feet padded across the floor.  He rested his palms on the countertop and scrutinized his appearance.  His face was streaked with stale sweat, and smothered in his black hair that shined with a faint layer of oil.  The torches lit up the room, banishing the darkness.  He ran his tongue across his teeth.  Harry's face fixed itself in a repulsed expression; his tongue lolled precariously.  The faint taste of the potion still lingered and coated his mouth.  Harry reached for his toothbrush and brushed until his gums were raw.

Now fully awake, Harry's only thought was of a warm shower. Dirt and sweat clung to his clothes and skin, he could smell it as he pulled his shirt over his head.  The rest of his garments fell to the floor in quick succession.

Steamy, soothing water rushed from the showerhead; Harry shut the door to enjoy this familiar ambiance.  His hair caved under the weight of the stream of water, clinging about his face and neck.  As he brushed his wet locks away from his face, a sharp pain shot through his wounded hand.  His eyelids opened to a slit; he had no idea where the red cloth he used to cover his cut had gone.  It did not matter that much to him anymore though, his sore had closed, forming a red, jagged scab.  The rest of his hand was still caked in dried blood.  Harry held out his wounded palm under the spray of water to cleanse it.  The blood mixed with the current and traveled down his arm, slipping passed his firm, but tender chest.  The ensanguined water glided down his skin until it fell soberly onto the tiled floor.  The red faded away from Harry's vision as it flowed into the drain.  

Anger and pain erupted without warning from his scar, forcing him to the ground.  He gasped, inhaling a stifled agony that cast itself over him like a cloud, suffocating him.  He was unable to stop it from flooding every part of his mind.  His eyes were closed, yet he could still see.  He saw shadows looming over a lone desk outlined in darkness; the light from the solitary window did not reach the wood.  Instead, the light flooded across the immense bed, the sheets rippled into a cascade of waves; an ocean that splashed against the countless pillows that formed the shore.  Harry felt he could be sucked into the waves; drown in the dark, lustrous green that colored the sheets.

The blinding rage faded, but only to be replaced by doubt and insecurity.  Every breath wrecked his detached body; all he was able to do under his own will was wrap his arms around his legs, forming a tight ball.  Tremors undulated through his body, coaxing him to fall forward. His hands braced his weight as the presence took hold of his mind; words not his own writhed under his skin.

The intensity of the feelings receded back from whence it came.  He gasped for air, choking on the overkill of emotions.  Feeling asphyxiated, he needed to purge himself of all the sensation that penetrated his very essence.  His arms held strong in their locked position, holding his body above the tile.  The mysterious presence left him to rid of the livid passion by his own devices.  Harry coughed continually, retching.  Finally, he could open his eyes again, and he was able to reclaim himself once more.  A realization surfaced in Harry's mind; he recognized the presence that had enslaved him. The Gryffindor could not mistake it for anyone else's.

_Malfoy…_

*~*~*

**Author's Note:**

_Nicole_ - Alright! Getting down to the good stuff. That chappie is quite intense, so chapter 4 is going to bring it down a little.  Highlights include: a very drunk Seamus, mud wrestling, Draco taking his shirt off, and Pansy falling off her broom :D

Sound good? Of course! You know you want some.

_Sara_ - Haha! Seamus! I seriously love our Seamus, he's going to play a bigger role in chapter four, and no, he won't be drunk the whole time. Chapter 4 is almost there, it's about 9,118 words at the moment and we have like one or two more things to do. Then edit between us, change things around. I'm thinking of redoing the beginning, I think it turned out horrible my first time writing it. So I don't think you will see this chapter for over a week, but it'll be worth it! Trust me on this, I mean how can you go wrong with mud wrestling? And of course with topless, pantless Draco? *faints* Oh, if you have any questions about anything in the story, I will more than likely answer it in the next chapter. I am keeping a few things secret though, secrets are fun! :D

**Bonuses! If you're the first person to guess where we got "BATTLE!!!" from, I will send you one of the scenes from chapter four…Or! If you can correctly figure out what the colors mean. I want to know what you guys think of that ^-^**

So make us happy! Review! Tell us what your favorite scene was, what you loved about this chapter, what you thought we could have done with out, anything. It does boost up our spirits and I get into my writing mood more often and it helps me write the scenes quicker, as I find out more and more on what you people want to read. Oh and people adding us to their favorites list as well ^-^

One last thing, our betas seem to have disappeared or are rather flaky except for the two we have now. We want our betas to be quick, have good ideas on how to change wording, and when they tell us they're going to give it back to us on a certain date, we expect it to be in our mailbox on that date. We waited well over a week for one of our betas to get back to us. I think it was going on two weeks. Or, if you're good at description we can always use your help, like saying which stuff is necessary, what is hard to understand, and basically anything that would help with the writing. 

So if you want to help OFAB along email Sara at dracosnoggin@seductive.com and I'll send you chapter four when we feel it's ready to be sent off to the betas (which should be by the end of the week or around there.) We want our betas to be excited about OFAB ^-^ or if you have messengers you can reach Sara on a couple of them…I tend to be on a lot so if you want to be apart of this, go for it! I implore you! And if you do this, tell me that you IMed me because of OFAB, helps sort out the random messages and all.

**AIM:** corrupted sight

**Yahoo:** yaydracoharry


	4. Update

Hey, this is just a little update on everything…

**Nicole** :   Hey! Thanks for all the awesome reviews :D  I always love reading them.  Chappie 4 is finally in the beta's hands.  Totally Sara's fault it took so long ;D  It's worth it though. Anyways! Thanks again, and spread the OFAB love 3

**Sara**: Me being me, I have been lazy, therefore I have just sent chapter four off to the betas.  Thank you for responding to my cry for beta help.  We now have 6 betas ^-^  But, still there are some parts which are pretty much outline form.  I've been bad…I've also been dealing with stuff (school…emotional shit grrr) Which is another reason why it's taken so long.  All the scenes that **are** written out, I love.  Especially the Quidditch Scene.

Chapter four will be entitled "Seduction" …hmmm!  Wonder what that's all about? :D  There is more dialogue, more humorous little tidbits everywhere.  I even laugh at some of the things that go on.  Seamus, as I predicted, has a big role in this chapter, also Goyle and his infatuation with food arises in multiple scenes.  Good times there.  Oh, and with one scene semi written out, and other things I need to rewrite (somehow…I turned a 300 word paragraph type thing into 1,011 so me rewriting the other areas could make it a lot longer) Chapter four is over 10,500.  I told you it was going to be a rather…large chapter ;)

Also…**If you leave your e-mail address, I will email you right when I post up any chapters for OFAB.  **

We're getting to work on the web page for this story, slowly I might add. A lot more will be explained there (what the Latin words mean, where exactly we figured everything out and what everything means), everything will be much more fancier.  And!  You get visuals.  Also, if you ever get inspired to do any fan art about OFAB, then send it in and it will be posted up on there with credit to you.  Not a bad deal huh? ^-^

**Questions**: As I figured, there were some questions that were brought up…I'll try and answer all the ones I can.  Others, I will flat out not answer as it gives away too much of the plot.  We pride ourselves in our original ideas, and plus it's just all the more fun as everything unfolds in front of you without knowing.  You should also know that whatever little information we put in here, is in the story for a reason.  We despise scenes and events that happen for no reason and have no effect on the plot, so there is none of that going on in OFAB, just so you know.  But now onto your questions.

**Sailor Grape**: _What the hell was that potion?!? I hope that was only a one-time occurrence because they had just taken it, or are they randomly going to start seeing colors and practically fainting everywhere they go? Oh, and it was only Harry's potion that got messed up, right? I want to know what the Ashwinder eggs did to his potion_

_so the scar on Harry's hand starts to hurt when Draco is in some kind of trouble (mentally or physically)? What would happen if both of his scars started to hurt at the same time?_

That potion was a little concoction of mine (Sara) that I thought of.  Each ingredient that I named was in there for a specific reason, except for the _dragon heart_…I just wanted that in there.  Just in case anyone was wondering, I'll tell you what each ingredient did.

Jobberknoll feathers – It is used in the Veritaserum potion. 

_Bicorn horn powder_ – The bicorn is a beast that eats the flesh of humans.  This is why the potion tastes so nasty…heh heh

_Ashwinder eggs_ – An ingredient in **some** potion. **If you can find what potion this is in, it's a bonus!  Write a review telling me what potion you think it is apart of and, if you're right, I'll send you a scene ^-^**

Yes, it was a one-time occurrence with the colors because it was just a side effect for taking the potion, as it was altered.  Nope, both Draco and Harry's were affected.  Well I had it so the scar on Harry's forehead was hurting.  I feel that it would be pretty susceptible to pain.  I mean, don't you think it would hurt if someone just barged into your head and was insanely pissed off?  My point exactly…

**Michael Serpent**: _How does the mistake in brewing the potion really affect Harry and Draco? How did it change the intended effect? And what's with the Torn Lover?_

To tell you the truth, when we first were writing this story, there were tons of things not involved and the Ashwinder eggs had played a larger part.  I mean, they still do something, but not to the extent as it was meant before.  I think what I said above about the eggs, is more than sufficient information ^-^…Ah!  My Torn Lover…Can't tell you how proud I am of that plant.  Thought it up at school too :D  It's more of a symbol really of Draco and Harry's love.  Rawr ;)  just pay attention to what I say about the plant and how it reacts to everything…I guess it foreshadows stuff…what a nifty thing right? Hehe

**Xikum**: _Seems to me, What Snape said was worse than what Malfoy said!  
Shouldn't there be some repurcussions for that? Even is his excuse is that he's a double agent for DD agains Voldie, still, that was too harsh on Harry! OR at least excuses made to him?_

Yea, well if Harry attacks Snape, then he's going to be expelled or something horribly horrible!  The only excuse I give Snape for doing that is that he's Snape.  I swear! Look in the books.  Nutcase I'm telling you.  There's one part where he's all whispering in Harry's ear about all these creepy things.  That part scared me and when I finished reading it, I was all *blinks*"ok…that did not just happen."

**Xikum**: _What change did the ashwinder eggs maeke to the potion? Why did that flower change for Harry? Is the flower foreshadowing a betrayal between Harry & Draco, or does it-since it got healthy-actually foreshadow fidelity rather than betrayal? With the pain in the scar on his head, was that somewhat of Voldie, or really just the shock between Draco & Harry? And, why is Snape so nasty to Harry, given whatever it is that both Dumbledor & Snape know about the two boys? And-What IS that secret, anyway??_

I kind of already explained Ashwinder eggs enough…Well the flower changed for Harry for one reason.  I'm not telling though.  You'll find out in some chapters ahead.  The Torn Lover, I consider that to be a symbol of Draco and Harry's relationship.  Yea…I'm guessing it was a shock between the two.  Again, Snape is Snape.  Greasy haired old man *shudders*  The secret?  You want to know the secret? Ha! I'm not telling you for some chapters.  And what's even worse…I'm going to just barely hint at it until then.  It'll unfold soon enough, you'll see.

**Bonuses** – 

**Genki**: You're absolutely right on the "Battle!" and I have already sent you one of the scenes ^-^ glad you liked it.

**Jun**: You pretty much got the colors figured out, but I couldn't give you your prize as you didn't leave your e-mail…Next time, if you want your prize (A scene from the next chapter) leave me your email or someway I can get in touch with you so I can actually send it to you!

But, there's a few differences that I'd like to point out.  How I viewed the whole colors is that it deals more with their magical auras.  I believe that everything has some magical essence (note the table glowing first)  And…each color represents aspects of each person

White – pure, innocent

Red – passionate, fiery, quick temper

Purple – royalty

Also, the intensity of how much they glow.  How I have it, the older the magical lineage (more pure blooded) they are fainter.  I think the family passes on the magical energy from generation to generation.  So each person uses a certain amount of the overall magical energy.  It somewhat reminds me of incest believe it or not.  The more someone breeds inside the family, the more deformed they are as they have the same genes being used. This is why Ron, being a pureblood has a faint red glow and Hermione, a mudblood, is just so incredibly bright.  She is the first to tap into her family's magical energy.

I will use this joint magical energy idea later on, so this is not a one-time occurrence…also, when Harry and Draco see each other, they both have red surrounding both of them because of the potion taking effect on them.

Ok! Hope this was a big enough update on how everything is going.  We're now getting started on Chapter five to keep ourselves busy until the betas return with their editing.  Sorry for the long wait.  It is all my fault!!!  But it will still be a couple more weeks, I think, before it is posted. :( so sorry.

Don't forget about the mailing list opportunity.  And for whatever reason if you want to get a hold of me (Sara) you can IM me or e-mail me.

Dracosnoggin@seductive.com

**AIM**: Corrupted Sight

**Yahoo**: yaydracoharry

**MSN**: dracoishaat@hotmail.com

I'm willing to chat with anyone ^-^ oh and if it's something strictly OFAB and you want both me and Nicole to read it email it to yaydracoharry@yahoo.com

Take care!


	5. Chapter Four:Seduction

**Title:** Of Flesh and Blood

**Author:** Patris Vox and Nicole7137

**Rating:** R (Because our Draco has a seriously foul mouth)

**Pairings:** Draco/Harry (wrestling mmm mmm does the body good)

**Disclaimer:** We are not JK Rowling, therefore, we do not own any of the characters…Though we wouldn't mind owning Draco ;D

**Warning:** Harry is stupid…Draco is haat…therefore! This is a Draco/Harry slash! If you don't like the idea of two guys going at each other, then why the hell did you click on this story anyway?

**Thanks: **

_Betty_ – You rock, as always, you are the best beta we have ever come across! Thanks for sticking with us. Go you!

_Sumire_ – You are now my new best question friend. I can just go on and ask you anything, whether it deals with word issues or imagery problems and you're all "**BAM**! This is how it's done."

_Disportraited_ – I cannot for the life of me remember your actual name. It's a sad sad and tiring day. Anyways, I haven't been talking to you long but you've helped out a bunch and I can't wait to see what happens between Veyt and Andre ^-^

As for the other so called 'betas', it would help if you knew what BETA meant, it actually means you **make** **corrections**! AND! YOU HAVE THEM IN A DIFFERENT GOD DAMN COLOR! For all we care, you can go rot in hell…nine times!

*~*~*****

**Chapter Four: Seduction**

_So I guess I'd better_

_Find a new way in_

_I shiver when I_

_Hear your name_

_Think about you_

_But it's not the same_

_I won't be satisfied_

_Until I'm under your skin_

_Maroon 5_

_"Shiver"_

The incessant howl of the wind woke Draco again from a fitful slumber.  His head ached from a nightmare that never manifested itself, leaving an emptiness that chilled him to the bone.  The thought would soon drift away, only to return the next time he woke up.  Draco turned over to face the window.  The glass covered the side of the room, allowing the boy to take in all the scenery at once.  Due to the solitary window being level with his bed, Draco could wake to beauty at sunrise.  This morning, however, the sky looked sinister.  Clouds swept over the heavens, and the rain dropped to the ground, its beat devoured by the honest rhythm of nature.  It appeared as a grey mist, floating down towards the lake and over the surrounding landscape.

A tentacle arched above the water and slipped back under the surface without so much as a ripple.  The clouds pushed further still by wind until they came across the old, weather beaten castle standing its own against time.  Tears streamed down, telling of their eternal, lonely journey to the ends of the earth, where they could finally settle down and watch the world go on without them.  Draco looked on at the story unfolding outside his window, understanding its simple message: despair is a sombre soul. 

Wrapping his arms around one of his pillows, Draco sighed.  The day had barely begun and already he despised it.  His room felt frozen, the one downfall of having such an enormous window.  It seemed not even magic could defy the elements.  Draco bundled up in his sheets to keep from going numb.  Closing his eyes, he tried to dispel the cold from his skin.  A memory replayed itself in his throbbing head continuously.  Disentangling one arm from his pillow, he rubbed his temple.  Draco pulled the few stray strands of hair that lay over his brow behind his ear; they fell back into place. He decided to let them be, going back to massaging his forehead softly.

The memory wrapped itself tightly over his eyes, skin, and mind.  Yet, Draco could not comprehend why it seemed so important.  He knew a potion was involved, but did not see any significance in that.  Having successfully completed so many in and outside class, they were now irrelevant to him.  His lips turned slightly down.  He knew one skill alone would never amount to anything, least of all earn praise from his father.  Even to get his own room was not a reward, but rather a mean to maintaining the family's dark legacy.  Draco remembered the day before his sixth year at Hogwarts began.

_A shiny prefect's badge was pinned onto Draco's robes.  Aside from the fact that Lucius had always told him to ignore such petty, frivolous honours, Draco beamed.  He now had legal power over the other students and he planned on making the most of it.  Draco revelled in the fantasies of what his new duties implied before being rudely bumped into.  Turning around, he found a younger boy, whom without a doubt was a first year.  There was a hitch in the first year's breathing as he recognized Draco; his eyes widened in fright._

_"Yo- you're-"_

_Draco looked down at the boy in contempt. Before he could castrate the boy for his criminal offence, a woman of middle age grabbed him and whisked him away from imminent danger. _

_"Bloody git."  Draco mentally noted another reason why he deserved his separate room: too many damn prats._

_Lucius decided that it was high time Draco started working with Dark and wandless magic outside the confines of the manor.  He wrote a letter to Dumbledore basically stating that if his son, Draco, would not receive his own, separate room, that he would transfer the boy to Durmstrang.  He also claimed that his son's poor performances in school were due in part to shared sleeping quarters; that Draco was suffering from sleep deprivation.  To Draco's surprise, Dumbledore accepted the bold-faced lie, and supplied him with private quarters.  _

_A masculine hand fell onto his shoulder interrupting Draco's thoughts.  The boy looked around to find his father staring intently at him.  Draco turned, waiting for any last instructions before he boarded the train._

_"I've been to see this room of yours.  You'll find I've made some…alterations to it.  Charms to have your fellow students avoid your quarters.  Your teachers will not find your books if you do as I've told, and your magic has been concealed from detection," Lucius gripped his son's shoulder harder, "Now, I will not hear of this room being squandered.  Being a Malfoy means that you must make sacrifices.  Do not fail.  A Malfoy never fails."_

_Draco nodded, acknowledging the underlying threat.  As he turned around and headed towards the train, his father had one last comment, "I will owl you if any interesting news arises."  With that, Draco stepped onto the express, escaping his father's sight.  He knew that his father was implying the Dark Lord; his chest felt heavy.  _

_The train ride was long and boring as usual; Draco was stuck in a cab with Crabbe and Goyle.  They stuffed their cheeks with as much food as they could buy.  They also seemed to find it hilarious to see who could eat the most Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans without purging.  Draco kept his eyes fixed on the passing countryside.  He fell asleep for a few hours, only to be awoken by the enormous thud of Crabbe falling onto his arse while trying to shove each of his fat arms through the sleeves of his school robes._

_After entering the Great Hall, he watched the Sorting Hat Ceremony with detachment.  Draco smirked as the clumsy boy from the train station was sorted into Hufflepuff.  After the final first year sat down at their table, the banquet commenced.  Crabbe and Goyle's eyes lit up as the food appeared in front of them, as though they had never seen such a novelty before. Draco was unsure whether it was the sudden materialization of it or the food itself._

_Draco looked over to see Goyle looking cautiously around the room, while shoving chicken into his pants' pocket.   Draco gave him a bewildered look._

_Goyle leaned closer and whispered, "For secret eating," and gave him a serious look._

_Disgusted with his friends' ability to inhale food like nobody's business, Draco lost his appetite.  He left the feast early, figuring his fellow Slytherin prefect, Aidyn Murray, would have no problem dealing with the first years himself._

_As Draco walked through the corridors, he saw a girl walking in the opposite direction.  Her long, brown hair bounced with each step she took; she attempted to prevent the smile that began to sweep over her lips as he passed.  Draco simply stared ahead, keeping his mind focused on his next turn.  His new quarters were in a completely different area than his old one was.  It was located two levels above the Slytherin Common Room, three passages over.  Draco figured that this room could not be any colder than the last, for which he was thankful.  He stepped in front of a portrait of a dragon looking lazily up towards the painted sky.   Its scales were tinged with dark, forest green and outlined in silver.  The tail swung back and forth in boredom, each of the dozen razor sharp spikes lining it dragged across the ground.  The dragon let out a puff of grey smoke, swirling and spiralling in a column towards the sky.  Draco cleared his throat and the dragon continued to ignore him.  "Malfoy pride," Draco knew that he had to change that poor excuse for a password quickly._

_With its eyes fully open, Draco could see that they took on the stormy, iced grey hue, much like his own.  The dragon took a rapid breath and exhaled.  A green flame spread across the whole of the painting before opening.  The boy changed the password to 'Draco Malfoy is a sexy bitch'.  Content with himself, he walked in._

_The door opened up to a small, relaxed room.   As Draco stepped into the new quarters, he took everything in at once_._  A large granite fireplace roared in front of a few leather couches and chairs. It was old-fashioned, but nevertheless, the boy was impressed by its grandeur._ _  The heat rolled out from the fire, leaving the room nice and warm.  Across from the door, a large bookcase loomed over Draco; the case brushed the slightly vaulted ceiling.  Browsing through the titles, Draco realized the majority among them were books he had at home.  An oak table was placed next to the second door**.**_

_Draco opened it up to find his bedroom. A third and final door, undoubtedly leading to the private bathroom, was placed directly across the room.   A lavishly designed desk was placed against the wall to his right.  The closet door stood open, awaiting his countless number of clothes._

_The most impressive sight in his room, however, was definitely the bed in the middle of the room.  It could have easily fit four people with room to spare.  Several of his pillows from home adorned the bedding.  He smiled; the boy could plainly see his house elf had not forgotten to pack his favourite pillow of all, his body pillow.  The sheets were made of silk, nothing less would have been acceptable.  He faintly felt like he was back in the Slytherin dormitory, since everything was tinted with the lustrous, forest green that his House was so well known for.  A sheer material was draped over the four posters that reached the ceiling.  Draco walked up to his new bed and ran his hand across the covers._

_He let himself fall backwards onto the bed, crumpling the sheets into millions of wrinkles.  The pillows bounced in the air briefly before settling back down.  His hands snaked over the sheets, grabbing a hold of his body pillow.  Pulling it towards him, he wrapped his arms and legs around it.  Draco's head rested on the top of the pillow; he lay in a curled, comfortable position, spooned up against his pillow like countless times before.  The boy sighed, deciding that this year would not be so bad after all.  The quiet was overwhelming, save for Draco's shallow breaths, as he drifted off to sleep._

And there he was, a month later, still on his bed, intertwined with his favourite pillow.  His room warmed as the smouldering fire in his front room relit itself.  All of his belongings were tucked away in their own spots; the room looked as barren and unlived in as it ever did.  Draco sighed heavily; his mind still pulsated with pain.  He knew the day was not going to be the best, but having a migraine sure did not help either.  It was Saturday, which meant that the day of the Quidditch match against Gryffindor had finally arrived.

_Against Potter…_****

Draco could not have cared less about the other players.  He saw the match as a 'one on one Seeker ability face-off'.  He hated that fact that somehow, **every time**, Potter managed a Machiavellian move, which always seemed to end with the Snitch in his bloody possession.

Resting his head sideways on the pillow, Draco gazed out his window once more.  The weather had cleared up; light bathed the grounds.  Yet, there was a new set of clouds that crept closer to the school.  The Quidditch match would be a very muddy and miserable event for sure.

Draco balled his hands into tight fists.  Flinching, he opened his left hand.  A deep, red line trailed across his palm.  He followed the path of the fresh wound in his mind, leading him to the previous night.  The potion.  The dagger.  Potter.  Draco shoved his face into his pillow, emitting a muffled cry of disgust.

*~*~*

Draco walked lazily into the Hall that morning for breakfast, taking his regular seat next to Goyle.  Pansy and Blaise sat turned towards each other, talking in hushed tones.  Pansy let out a forced laugh and teasingly slapped Blaise's chest.  She ran her hand through her hair, twirling the ends.  As soon as Pansy and Blaise saw Draco, their conversation ended abruptly.

"Heeeey Draco!  Did you oversleep?  I was worried about you!"  Pansy turned away from Blaise, focusing on him.  

"I thought if I waited long enough, you would already be gone." 

"Oh!"  Pansy giggled obnoxiously, "You are so silly, Draco!"  

"Yeah."  Draco rolled his eyes, preparing himself for another day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he gazed across the hall to the Gryffindor table.  Harry sat surrounded by most of his house members.  The expressions lit up as Harry said something then threw his hands up n the air.   He stood up dramatically and yelled out, "And then I said 'This is most irregular'!"  The audience erupted in cheers and laughter.   A rush of glee overcame Draco; a smile spread across his face.  Warmth swept across his body, as he unconsciously began to chuckle along with the Gryffindors.

"Malfoy!"  Zabini yelled, "What the hell are you gawking at?" 

"Oh, uhh…uhm…" Draco stuttered, for the first time unable to think of a witty retort.

"Draco, honey, stop that!  You're scaring me!"  Pansy ordered, giving him a troubled look.

"Stop what?"

"Stop smiling!  It looks all wrong on you.  You just don't have the kind of face to pull it off."

Draco glared at her as the rest of the group snickered.

"Anyways, as I was asking you before you went all parallel universe on us Malfoy, what are we going to do since Crabbe can't play today's game?"  Blaise questioned.  "We can't find another Beater as good as him on such short notice."

Goyle grunted, glaring at Blaise.

"Well, except for you, Goyle, but you're already playing."

Goyle looked confused for a moment, then nodded and went back to his food.

"I honestly don't care, Zabini.  Why don't you figure it out yourself, since you're so damned clever."  Draco noted this event as reason number two of why today sucked.

"That is not a very good attitude to have before a match, Malfoy.  Why don't you think about your priorities before you come to the game today, huh?"  Blaise advised in an arrogant tone.  Under the table, his hand rested on Pansy's thigh.  

"And why don't you just shut the fuck up.  Your stupid team would fall apart without me, and you know it.  You're only captain, because I turned it down.  Remember that."  Draco pushed his plate away, and got up.  Without another look, he left the table and headed directly towards the corridor. 

Concern washed over Harry as he watched Draco slip around the corner out of sight.

*~*~*

With a twist of his fingers, Harry's robes fell from his shoulders, billowing to the ground.  Checking around the room, he found no one looking.  Everyone else was too preoccupied to notice Harry in the corner.  Dean and Ron were caught up in a deep conversation of the upcoming game and their tactical defences.  Dean's arms were flailing around while Ron nodded his head in agreement.  Harry swore he heard Dean say "Malfoy" and "Bludger" a few times.  Every time he did, an evil grin washed over Ron's face.

Steam flooded the room from the showers.  An Irish accent echoed throughout the locker room.

_Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag_

_And smile, smile, smile!_

_While you've a lucifer to light your fag,_

_Smile boys, that's the style!_

What's the use of worrying.

_It never was worthwhile. So!_

_Pack up your trouble in your old kit bag_

_And smile, smile, smile…_

Seamus emerged from the steam cloud wet, clean, and…naked.  He walked past the other boys who were far too used to Seamus' overt displays of nudity, especially his dorm mates.  Harry, however, felt he could never get used to seeing Seamus'…package in all its' majesty.  Seamus strutted proudly along, winking and making gestures at some of the Slytherins who were gawking, until he sauntered right over to Harry's corner.

"Ready for the game, Harry?"  Seamus scratched his groin carelessly.

Harry diverted his eye contact quickly, looking up at a particularly interesting part of the ceiling.

"Uh. Yep. I sure am.  I just need some…_quiet_ Seeker time right now." 

"Ohhh!  I gotcha there, Harry!"  Seamus put his arm around Harry's neck, pulled him into his chest, and tousled his hair.  Harry squeezed his eyelids shut as much as he could, trying to think of everything except the full on penis view in front of him.  Seamus laughed enthusiastically.

Just at the right moment, being fashionably late as usual, Draco walked in.  He walked by calmly; ignoring the fact that Harry's face was pressed down near Seamus' crotch as both teams stood staring.

"Finnigan put your clothes back on.  No one wants to see that."  Draco instructed.

"Oh, you know you want me, Draco!"

"Hardly…"

Ron and Dean grabbed their Quidditch robes hastily, and were attempting to make a break for it while Seamus' attention was fixed on Draco.

"Hey!  Where do you think you two are going?!"  Seamus was far more perceptive than he let on to be.

Ron and Dean staggered before dashing out of the locker room.  Seamus blew a kiss at Draco, grabbed his Quidditch attire, and ran out of the room after them, clasping his robe along the way.

Draco shrugged off Seamus' naked image, trying to keep focused.  He only had a few minutes to get ready before the match.  Being fashionably late had its drawbacks.  His hand glided into his pocket, searching for his wand.  Muttering "_Alohomora_" under his breath, the locker opened.  His slender fingers opened the door until it hit rather noisily against another locker.  The mirror on it shook but kept its position on the door.  Draco eyed his reflection, making sure his hair flattened smoothly against each curve.  Pleased with his appearance, he leaned back onto one leg and rested his head onto one of his palms.  The boy's eyes brightened and his hand reached in his locker, pulling out one of his Quidditch robes.  He scoured the robe's appearance, holding it up.  Shaking his head, he hung it back in his locker.  Draco thumbed through the robes until he pulled out another identical green one.  Satisfied with his choice, he unclasped his robe, hanging it in the other's place.  The used school robe seemed out of place in the midst of the six Quidditch uniforms that were cleaned and pressed, hanging neatly in the boy's locker.  

Draco stood in a tight black cotton shirt that clung to his skin and dark, grey trousers that just hinted at his toned thighs.  His silver buckle glinted in the light.  The boy took a step back to appraise his appearance.  Draco looked down at his arms, flexing them, and wondered if he would be able to control his new broomstick this year.  His old Nimbus Two Thousand and One was severely outclassed by his Serpent Ten.  Even the Firebolt was out leagued by the style, grace, and speed of Draco's new broom.  The handle was carved into a snake with scales etched into the rowan handle for easier grip.  The wood expanded as it reached the tightly bound twigs at the base.  Two silver footholds were just noticeable.  Serpent Ten was written across the length of the broom in silver, flowing writing.  He smiled briefly; his worry of losing the match slowly drifted away.  With a last fleeting glance at the mirror, he noted that his black shirt defined his slim features quite nicely. 

If there was anything Draco loved about being a Malfoy, other than power and money, it was the trademark good looks of the family.  Sharp features, much like their wit, slender without the slightest imperfection.  Draco knew he could walk into any room and catch at least one set of eyes with his presence.  Draco's arm bent over to his back, grasping the shirt and eased it over his head. 

Draco's head fell back, ruffling his hair; his shirt now only covered his arms and stomach. The boy's heartbeat quickened as a surge of hotness tightened around his groin.  Draco's eyes fell shut as he breathed in shakily.  

Something caught Harry's attention in the corner of his eye.  He did not budge as he peered on helplessly watching Draco taking his shirt off; his mouth fell open.  Harry's heart pounded at the sight.  As if Draco could feel the inconspicuous eyes on him, his body went rigid.  His eyes snapped open.  And the shirt slipped out of his hands, cascading to the floor.  Harry could not help but watch Draco's hand slowly grab onto the offending tight black shirt.  His green eyes caressed Draco's skin with their gaze, moving up an arm, up his neck where Harry noticed the boy swallowing hard.  He looked back up at Draco's face; he was staring directly at him.  Harry darted his eyesight down to his belt, where his hands now rested.

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion at Harry.  His own gaze followed Harry's.  There was a considerable bulge in the boy's pants.  He could not help but smirk.  He cracked a smile and straightened up, setting the rumpled shirt in the locker.

Draco brushed back a few strands that had fallen.  His hand lightly slid down his body, over his stomach, stopping at his own belt.  He undid it in a matter of seconds.  Draco tugged at the hem of his pants, unbuttoning them with ease.  Slipping them off along with his shoes, he set them in his locker.

He turned and headed right for Harry.  The boy held his breath as another wave of heat spread across his body.  Harry nearly lost his bearings as the almost-naked Draco walked so close to him that he could feel his hand just barely brush his skin.  Draco knew he had complete control over Harry for the moment.  His eyes glinted with smugness.

Draco walked purposefully over to the sink, and turned the tap on and the water flowed freely into his palms.  Draco bent over and braced himself as he splashed the cool water onto his face.  The water streamed down his neck, clinging to his skin, as it inched its way down to his stomach.  Draco parted his lips and his tongue slipped out, running over them.  Harry moaned faintly at the gesture, watching the teasing tongue slide across the lips sensually.  He was losing control of himself; his skin was now on fire.__

_Yeah, I bet you like the goods, Potter._

Draco looked at Harry with satisfaction.  Something so harmless riled Harry up immensely.  In fact, the boy's face turned quite red.  And he dropped his shirt.  Harry fumbled for it, and hurriedly pulled it over his head, inside out.  He snatched the rest of his clothes and ran out of the locker room as soon as possible.  Draco stood perplexed, curious as to what had rattled the boy.  He bit his lip, shrugging his shoulders.

He headed back to his locker, thinking of ways to secretly humiliate Potter in front of everyone.

_This should be an interesting match._

*~*~*

"Okay, there is no reason why we can't win today."  Blaise stood in front of the Slytherin team under the tent.

Draco stood in the back, glaring threateningly at him. 

"We all know why Crabbe can't be here today, but we managed to find someone equally as…uh…brutal."  Zabini avoided eye contact with Millicent.

"Yeah!  We are **so **going to win!"  Pansy exclaimed, looking happily around the room, almost bouncing in her seat.

Draco huffed.

"Now, remember what we've been practicing.  Hit 'em hard, knock 'em out, and cheat whenever possible.  Are you paying attention to me, Malfoy?"

"Just guard the goals, and stay out of my face."  Draco snatched his broom up and departed.

*~*~*

Draco walked confidently out onto the field ahead of the rest of the team.  The billowing of the green robes caught everyone's eye; they moved in a distinct V shape.  With Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini walking closely together behind Draco, Malcolm Baddock and Graham Pritchard fell behind them, leaving Millicent Bulstrode and Gregory Goyle to take up the back.  The wind swept around them, enticing them to the centre of the field as the roar of the crowd intensified with each step they took.  The Slytherins paused, taking their positions.  Draco felt his stomach tighten as tension built up inside him; he looked across at his opponents.  Ron and Seamus were staring slack jawed in disbelief at the sight of Draco's new broom.  Their hands rose, pointing at the Serpent Ten; a hushed whisper fell among the Gryffindor team.  Draco offered them one of his cool, detached sneers, and kicked off from the ground. 

He drew level with Harry and raised one of his eyebrows in acknowledgment.  The other Seeker deliberately kept his eyes on Madam Hooch as Draco took his place just opposite of him, above every other player.  Harry's cheeks tinged with a light pink; Draco tightened his grip on his Serpent Ten, and bit the side of his mouth, trying to keep a serious face.  Madam Hooch took her spot next to the Quidditch chest.  She kept her broom in her right hand as her left foot rested on the top of the chest.  Waiting for the rest of the straggling team members to get into position, her yellow eyes scanned the field.

"All right, let's keep this clean for once."  She eyed Blaise first; he sat upright as she looked towards him and attempted his innocent little boy act.

Madam Hooch grudgingly turned towards Seamus Finnigan and her eyes and expression ran cold.  Seamus nodded angelically while she glared at him, but the second she turned towards the chest, his face lit up and he laughed merrily.  His broom wavered under his laughter, as Madam Hooch opened the chest with a soft kick.  The two Bludgers exploded out of the chest; one headed straight towards Seamus but was evaded easily by a quick jerk of his broom.  The Golden Snitch hovered momentarily, quivered from side to side, unsure of which way to head, and then rushed upward in a suicidal fashion.  It spiralled around, weaving itself through all the gusts of wind; its wings nearly broke.  The Snitch climbed further still, past the two Seekers, finally veering off to the left as the clouds overhead loomed ominously.  The two Seekers trained their eyes on the ball, watching its every move as it scurried off in an unsteady manner.  Finally, the Quaffle was released.  Neither boy heard the whistle, but rather felt the game crackle with tension as it began.

Colin's voice boomed over the crowd.  "First game of the season!  Slytherin versus GRRRyffindor!!  This should be a most exciting match!  And lookit Harry go!  Already after the Snitch!!"

Draco pulled his broom and charged after Harry.  The blond closed the gap within seconds and passed the other boy, leaving him far behind.  The clouds severed the last of the light that fell over the landscape.  Draco kept his vision locked on the Snitch; he breathed in unsteadily, amazed that he was now within arms length of the sought after ball so early in the game.  His right hand gripped the handle of the broom as his other arm reached out towards the Snitch.  Just as his fingers brushed up against the fluttering wings, a familiar whooshing noise drew closer.  Draco had just enough time to turn his head and see a black Bludger barrelling towards him; he dived into a somersault, and avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it hurtled by.  He looked around furiously, searching for the unknown assailant.  He found Ron laughing merrily, waving his bat around in the air.

"What a crafty move made on Ron Weasley's behalf!  Slytherins don't stand a chance against the Gryffindor Beaters.  AND LET'S NOT FORGET HOW AWESOME HARRY IS!" McGonagall gave Colin Creevey a warning glare.

Draco furrowed his brow in frustration; the Snitch was nowhere to be seen.  He glanced at Harry; the boy had lost sight as well.  He saw his chance to tease Harry as he had his eyes set on him; he ran his tongue seductively over his lips as he had in the locker room.  Draco turned and headed back into the game, plotting Ron's demise, leaving Harry blushing profusely. 

*~*~*

The storm had come, unleashing all its fury on the game.  The sky poured relentlessly onto the field; the wind blew in every direction.  Draco ran both hands through his drenched hair, frustrated, only to have it fall back into his eyes.  Apparently, the Gryffindor team's big strategy was to be highly defencive, in other words, Seamus Finnigan going after everyone in sight.  The game started off fairly innocent; Gryffindor scored the first five times; Zabini was obviously not on top of his game.  Baddock managed to do a fake out on 'Stonewall Dean', scoring the first ten points for Slytherin.  Seamus came into action, smashing a Bludger into the side of Zabini's head, knocking him out indefinitely.  This left the goals wide open for Gryffindor.  Draco tried to defend the goals, but soon gave up and instructed Goyle to fly near the hoops and block them with his body.  With his mind focused, Draco's line of attack consisted of making obscene remarks or gestures at Harry, destroying any concentration he had left to find the Snitch.  The rain was not helping the situation much either; Harry's glasses fogged and his hands kept slipping off the broomstick.  The Snitch only appeared twice more.  The first time, Ron sabotaged Draco once again.  The other time, Draco grazed his broom's tail against Harry's and flipped over, almost falling the whole sixty feet.  Harry held a grudge against him the rest of the game.

Seamus was focused on stalking Pansy, cutting her off whenever she tried to shake him.  With Seamus right on her back, there was no way she could concentrate.  The Quaffle flew past her so many times that the team stopped trying to throw it to her anymore.  Seamus' eyes glittered with triumph as his bat struck a Bludger, slamming it in her direction, hitting her directly in the back.  With the wind knocked out of her, she fell head first into the field of mud.

Millicent Bulstrode was of no help either; she was never meant to ride a broom.  The wind distracted her constantly, veering her off course whenever she went into 'action'.  Droplets of water soaked her hair, smearing strands all over her face.  Her hands lost grip of the broom, and she fell to the ground twice.  As luck would have it, she remained unharmed.  Bulstrode kept getting back into the game, albeit with layers of mud plastered onto her robes.

Another Bludger hurtled past Draco's head. He barely ducked in time.  Ron had made it his sole purpose to prevent Draco from catching the Snitch, by any means necessary.  Draco shot a murderous glare at the redhead, as Harry coasted overhead laughing heartily.  Draco had had it with the game Ron was playing with him.  He saw Goyle across the pitch defending Baddock, who had scored the two sole goals Slytherin had made.  Before Goyle realized what happened, Draco had the boy's bat and was on the search for a black ball.  He saw one heading towards him, as red hair bobbed in the corner of his eye.  Draco hit the Bludger as hard as he could, and Ron was out for the rest of the match.  Harry caught the foul and was now more determined than ever to catch the Snitch as Draco swooped near him calling out, "Now it's just you and me, Potter!"

Harry felt the adrenaline pulsating through his veins.  He turned around to find Draco in a dive.  He looked ahead and the familiar glimmer of gold rushed just feet in front of the blond.  Harry set off after the boy, seriously lagging behind.  The distance shortened slowly as Harry steeped his dive.  Draco almost had the Snitch in his grasp.  Without thought, Harry yanked on the green robes; Draco lost his hold of the broom.  And then there was a cool, sinking feeling as Harry's face slammed into the mud.  He felt a body squirming under him, pushing him off.  Harry cursed under his breath as he was thrown onto his back.

"It's mine Potter!"

The words reignited the boy's passion; he ploughed into Draco. He shoved the boy's head into the mud with no intent on stopping.  The two thrashed about, fighting for dominance, while the audience sat spellbound at the spectacle that unfurled below them.  No one knew who had caught the Snitch or even if it had even been caught for that matter.  The rest of the players in the air sat motionless on their brooms.  Mud flew everywhere, as their bodies collided into the earth.  Harry's glasses were ripped off his face and sunk into the mud a few feet over.  Draco kept a death grip on the Snitch, as he shoved mud into Harry's mouth with the other hand.

"You like that don't you, Potter!  Mmm!  MUD!"  Vengeance had never felt so sweet.

Harry's eyes went dark as he closed his hand into a tight fist.  His arm shot forward, connecting squarely with Draco's jaw.  Draco looked down at Harry in disbelief through mud-covered strands of hair.  He blinked.  

"Oh, that's how you wanna play?"

Harry's eyes bulged as Draco strangled him with his free hand.  The hand clutching his neck was not forceful, but rather fixed, keeping his head firmly onto the ground.  A scorching sensation travelled down from Draco's arm into his body.  Both boys shuddered under its power.  Harry's eyes widened further still; everything took on a new dimension.  He could feel the connection, was able to see his blood coursing through Draco's veins, able to discern the emotions running fiercely.  Harry knew he was losing touch with reality, as well as Draco.  Draco's mind opened up in front of him.  Harry saw the Snitch fluttering about in his mind, finally resting in his palm.  There, he saw a boy truly happy; Harry smiled.  Everything seemed to weaken in front of him.  The boy tried holding onto reality; he kneed Draco in the stomach.  Draco keeled over, clutching his abdomen.  What they felt, what they saw erased from their minds.  Harry sat up to look at Draco, able to see and feel through all the mud that a blurry Draco was more than furious for having been struck in the stomach. Draco got to his knees and threw himself onto Harry, forcing him back down to the ground.  Draco pulled Harry's arm around his back, forcing it as far as it would go, and then some; Harry yelled out in pain.

Madam Hooch dove down to end the wrestling match.  Just as her feet lapsed under her weight in the mud, Draco won the battle.  Both of Harry's arms were trapped under his left hand above the boy's head, as Draco straddled him.  Their robes clung to them, mud plastered all over their bodies.  With his right arm in the air, he revealed the Golden Snitch in his palm.

"I win."  A genuine smile swept over his face.

Colin's voice echoed across the pitch in disbelief, "Draco Malfoy has…caught th-the Snitch?!"

There was a long silence as the idea settled into everyone's mind.  The Slytherins cheered loudly.  Harry's heart sank.   His eyes bore into Draco, expressing all the pain of finally losing to him.

"BUT GRYFFINDOR STILL WINS!!!"  The crowd erupted in cheers at the declaration.

 "WHAT?!" Draco yelled. Reason number three.

Harry pushed Draco off of him; his hand let go of the Snitch and it took off back into the chilling air.

"You'll never beat me Malfoy," Harry spat, as he rose from the ground.

Harry picked up his glasses and wiped off the mud that clung to the lenses.  He stomped off to join the other Gryffindors, leaving Draco in disarray.  As the realization set in, Draco bitterly got up from the ground, and walked to the edge of the field.  Zabini still lay face down nearby as the totals were called out: Slytherin 170, Gryffindor 180. Gryffindor had scored twice more while Draco's attention was diverted to Snitch catching and mud wrestling with Harry Potter.

Draco walked over to the unconscious boy, and kicked him roughly in the ribs, "DAMNIT ZABINI!"  Blaise let out a pained "oomph" before his head rested back in the mud.

Draco ran his hands through his hair, pulling clumps of dirt from the strands.  Gryffindor had won again, but Draco's own triumph overshadowed the team's loss.  He began to walk off the field slowly in his hollow victory.

Defeating Harry Potter was a fantasy that he had nurtured for so long, but when he finally had, it felt nothing like it was supposed to.

*~*~*

"Seamus!  For the last time!  Put your shirt back on!"

"Nah man!  I'm a free spirit!" Seamus hollered.

"You're not a damn hippie, now get your shirt back on!"  Dean held onto Seamus' shirt, trying to control the boy.

"Hey, why don't you just calm down?  Don't worry about it!  C'mon, feel the partay!  You know you want to," the boy's eyes glimmered in a drunken bliss.

Seamus had his hands on the other boy's waist, rocking it to a beat only Seamus could hear.  He tried persuading Dean that maturity was out of the question for the night.  No adults, spiked Butterbeer, a victorious Quidditch match, spiked Butterbeer, girls, oh and more spiked Butterbeer! 

The Weasley twins had discovered a charm the year before that, when cast upon any drink, would cause whoever drank it to feel like he had imbibed serious amounts of alcohol. Amazingly enough, the twins passed it onto Ron, somewhat out of guilt for turning him into a miniature pink elephant with one of their latest experiments over the summer.  Actually, it was more like bribing Ron into not telling their mum.  Whatever the reason, Ron and his friends put the charm to good use.  

A handful of Gryffindors snuck over to Hogsmeade and stuffed their robes with bottle after bottle of Butterbeer.

A few witches standing near them chuckled.

"Remember when we used to do that, Fran?"

"Mmhmmm, kids never change," and the two left the group to their hoarding.

The party started without them, but remained dull and boring with idle chitchat as they waited for the drinks to arrive.

When the group entered, the whole room erupted in cheers and clapping; now the party could get started.  Just as everyone was about to take their first sip, the food crew returned with the last of the pastries and desserts from the kitchen.  Seamus whooped and hollered on one of the tables.  Everyone chanted, "Chug chug chug!" over and over as the Irish boy downed the first Butterbeer.  He wiped away the enchanted liquid that dribbled down his face and jumped off the table.  He staggered around for a few minutes; the charm went into effect.  All around, bottles were emptied and everyone loosened up in drunken stupor.****

Dean, however, avoided the tainted Butterbeers; he was afraid what people might think of him if he drank any.  The room grew noisier and people were falling over in laughter all over the place.  Seamus opened a new bottle and shoved it in the boy's face.  There was a sinking feeling in his chest that reached down past his stomach as he took the bottle in his hand.  Dean stared down into the frothy brew.

"Go on!  Quit being such a priss.  It won't kill ya!"  Seamus grinned, with one hand still swaying the other's hips.

Dean sighed heavily and took a swig.  It did not taste any different from any other Butterbeer he had drunk before.  The same warming feeling coated his body and he smiled.  His eyes fell shut when he put the drink to his mouth again, still unsure if he should be doing this.  His face began to tingle, as he heard Seamus laughing at him for being so overdramatic.  He punched the boy in the shoulder light heartedly and finished off the rest of his bottle.  Satisfied with corrupting yet another friend, Seamus snatched back his shirt and took off after a couple of girls walking by, leaving Dean to find his own entertainment.

The boy walked over to the couches, holding his empty Butterbeer, completely forgetting that he still had it in his hands.  He took a seat, smiling broadly and wondering why he had been so worried in the first place.  Nothing that made you feel this good could be that bad. Dean looked over, finding Ron and Hermione sharing the same bottle and chair.  Hermione sat on his lap, talking intimately about how well he had played in the game.  She stroked his red hair and kissed him on the forehead.  Ron leaned up and captured her lips with his.  He ran his hands through her hair and stared into her eyes.  Hermione pressed her smile against his.  They kept at it, showering each other in kisses, finally being interrupted by Crookshanks jumping up on Hermione's lap.  The cat meowed and hiccupped.  Hermione giggled and pet the giant cat.  It purred loudly and slumped over.

"I think Crookshanks had a bit o' that Butterbeer," Ron poked the sleeping lump in the stomach.  He began collecting the cat into his arms, "Oh, Dean?  While you're up, could you take Crook and put him somewhere?"

"Don't you dare Dean!"  Hermione jumped up and swooped Crookshanks into the safety of her arms.  Dean nodded and left, in search of some of his own action.

"As for you Ron, my cat will not be put just anywhere all willy-nilly!! Think of—"

"My mistake, I don't know WHAT I was thinking.  Here, I'll take him up to your room if you want."  He was not in the mood to be lectured on something else he did not care about, so appeasing Hermione was the only thing in mind.

"I'll go with you, you know Seamus is, uhh, out and about," Hermione looked around with concern.

Ron carefully took Crookshanks from Hermione.  In one arm, he held the sleeping ball of fur, and with the other, he wrapped tightly around Hermione, comforting her.  They left the couches and headed on up to Hermione's bedroom.

"Quit that Seamus!"  Lavender Brown screamed as Seamus once again snapped his shirt on her arse.  The boy still had not put his shirt on and he had no intention to do so for the rest of the night.

"Oh, you know you like it!" Seamus grabbed her by her waist.  He had other plans for that night; he slung the girl over his shoulder and grunted as he walked towards the stairs.

Lavender kicked her feet around, pretending that she was being kidnapped, "Somebody help me!"

Seamus bounced up the stairs with Lavender in tow.  When he reached the top, he turned to look down at the party.  "Don't have too much fun without me!"  With that, he made his exit, screaming Lavender and all.

Everyone but Harry seemed to be having a fun time at the victory party.  Harry tried to at first, by drinking some of the Butterbeer, but it only worsened his dark mood.  Colin and Dennis Creevey tried cheering him up by telling him over and over how good he looked playing in the game earlier and how Malfoy must have cheated, since there was no other possible way for him to beat Harry.  Harry glared at them threateningly.  Both boys blinked, looked at each other, swallowed hard and let Harry be for the rest of the night.

Harry knew that Draco had not cheated to catch the Snitch, and he was incensed with himself.  With his new broom, Malfoy was now a better Seeker than him.

_What's wrong with me?  First, I'm staring at Malfoy.  Malfoy for fuck's sake!  What the hell!  What the hell was I thinking…I could use some new boxers.  Haven't in a while.  His look nice.  I wonder where I could get some.  Bugger…I gotta piddle. Oh sod  it!  I'm comfy.  At least no one's bothering me.  I hate them.  Always so damn happy…wish I could tell them though.  Stupid Dumbledore and his stupid rules.  There's no point in not telling them 'cept to keep me miserable.  Well, guess what Dumbledore!!  It's working!  Not only do I have to keep my mouth shut, but fucking Malfoy can feel me.  Man, and he knows it, too.  Bastard, using it against me.  So, what if I liked his dragon…er…boxers!  Yeah!  Well, I bet I'm not the only person that thinks those are really nice…boxers.  Maybe, he had a spell put on them…to keep me distracted.  Yeah, that's why I couldn't concentrate.  Those were a nice pair of boxers.  Evil, yes.  But nice.  That's how he beat me, I bet.  Next time, Harry, just ignore those evil boxers.  You'll get the Snitch and everyone will be proud and everything can go back to normal.  Well, as normal as it can be.  Man, I want another Butterbeer._

Harry let out a muffled cry, as Seamus hopped on him.  

"C'mon Harry!  This is a partay!  Have some fun!!!"  

"What are you doing down here so soon?"

"Oh, Lav got all tired.  She needs more energy, that one, I'm tellin' ya."  

"Mmm."  Harry looked around frantically to find something or someone to distract Seamus.

"Seam?"

"Yes, mah dear?"  Seamus asked.  

"Yeah, uhm, no offence or anything, but could you get offa me?   I can't breathe."  Harry sighed as he lifted himself up, but to his dismay, Seamus shoved Harry over and sat next to him.

"Seam?"  Harry asked, looking the other boy up and down.

"You know what I was thinking Harry?  That you looked awfully bored over here in this dreadful corner all alone.  Care to have a go?"  Seamus winked and laughed. 

"That's quite alright…I'm not bored, just thinking…about stuff."

"Well, that's horribly horrible!  You're no fun!!!  What happened to the Harry that I knew that liked to partay?"  Seamus attempted to act sincere.

Harry blinked.  "Funny.  I've never met **that** Harry."

"That's what I'm talking about!  Stop trying to act all growed up and think.  No no!  Bad Harry!"  He slapped Harry upside the head to reprimand him.  "Now here's whatcha need to do…"

"First, could you go and get me another Butterbeer?  I'm all out and thirsty." Harry asked.

"Oh, I can do better than that!  Here you seemed pretty bummed out about that dirty git catching the Snitch.  How's about I give ya a **FREE** 'Famous Seamus Slippery Lap Dance'!  Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "Well, that doesn't exactly quench my thirst.  And blimey Seamus, you do that for everyone!"

"I told ya they're famous!"

"Seamus. NO."

"Aww, c'mon, not even just a little?  Fine, fine.  How's 'bout a snog then?"

"Seamus, get your slutty hands offa me! And find someone else willing to FUCK YOU!"  Harry did not mean to be so loud or harsh as that, but he felt it out of his control.  

"WHOA.  Okay…I think you need some 'me' time.  SERIOUSLY.  Come see me when you're all right."  Seamus walked away, surprised at Harry's behaviour, but his attention was soon diverted to a group of girls getting awfully comfortable together on a chair in the corner.

Harry's arms shook from the rage.  It did not matter what Seamus was doing, nothing should have angered him that much.  Little blips of images flashed in front of him.  A room with Goyle, and another with Blaise Zabini.  Harry almost attacked the vision with his hands and feet.  He never wanted to see that again.  Ever.  Then, he smelled something, much like peppermint.  It overpowered his senses.  And finally, a dragon.  It was peaceful, sleeping curled up.  His anger heightened at the sight of it being thrown.  Harry nearly called out a spell to keep it from breaking. He saw a girl standing feet away, coated in red from all the hatred.  Harry breathed in and out, not wanting to see what would happen next.  He repeated a little mantra that he thought of on the spot.

_Be calm.  Stay calm.  Happy.  I am happy.  Happy thoughts.  Happy thoughts Harry…_

_An elegant hand gripped his neck. Could not feel, not breathe, he was suffocating. Suffocating in those grey eyes that held so much fury. Fury for him, fury for every little mistake that the blond did. And Draco was taking it out on him, draining out on him, draining his emotion upon him. Bittersweet, that is how it felt, that is how it tasted and Harry loved it. Loved to feel that achingly, tantalizingly tender pressure, pressure of a body, of a body on his, his, his breathing hitched. There was nothing, no time, no reality, just him and Draco. Their eyes locked, looked, peered, penetrated one another knowing all along what they themselves did not. And Harry could only do one thing, he fell.  Fell under the spell of seduction that twisted, entangled, wrapped around and around in a dizzying daze that left him light headed._

_Oh, God.  I think I'm going to be sick!_

*~*~*

Rain beat against Draco's window, as he lay in his bed.  After the game, he had immediately left the field, avoiding the locker rooms, and went straight to his room.  The hot shower had done little to calm him.  All his thoughts focused on Harry; the look on Harry's face when he saw Draco holding up the Snitch, and the exhilarating feeling holding the golden ball with Harry writhing underneath him.  The hushed whispers from the stands echoed in his ears still.

Looking up at the ceiling hours later, Draco still thought of Harry, of their 'circumstance'.  He wondered how long the potion was going to last.  Wondered what was going on between them, and if things would really change.  His thoughts momentarily drifted to the locker room.  Harry had been staring at him.  Draco knew what Harry had felt.  The rush of arousal was overwhelming.  And during their fight, the intensity of Harry's anger was frightening.  Their connection was frightening.  He felt like the entire world disappeared when they fought.

He felt like the entire world ceased to exist if he even thought about Harry.  Which seemed to be all he could do lately.  The dark haired boy had been haunting his dreams for weeks.  Prancing around in his thoughts during class.  Generally being a twit and wreaking havoc on his mind.  And all without knowing it.

_Damn, he's good…_

Draco's eyes shot open, leaving Potter to drift around in his mind, before he turned to the door.  He faintly picked up on a padding pair of feet.  He pulled himself off of his bed to face the intruder, his wand in ready position.  His stomach churned uneasily, he began to feel nauseous.  By the time he was within reach of his door, it opened.  And she stood there, his beauty queen whore.

It had been years since their first time together; Draco's first, ever.  Despite his insecurities, everything was soft and caring.  Draco just looked at her one day and knew.  They met in his bed and he spoke sweet nothings in her ear; she would forever be his.  He kissed her eyelids each time and held her, arms wrapped tightly around her, afraid to lose her.  In his warped mind, he thought that he loved her and she loved him.  That they would marry, have a family, and everything would be right in the world.  And maybe she had loved him, just never in his way.  Her love stemmed from a guilty obsession with the Malfoy family.  Dreams of marrying into one of the most respected wizarding families turned more into a reality everyday.  But as the weeks passed, Draco grew bored of only having her to claim as his own.  His prowl for his next victim did not last long; his sights centred on a certain Gryffindor: Lavender Brown.  Despite what anyone thought, Draco actually did not mind her; she was sweet, pretty in her own sort of way, and she let Draco have his way with her.  But, she was not the same, everything but his first.  He went back to her, feeling incomplete without her.  And she let him inside her once more.  He held onto her, terrified of anything unknown.

The days grew into weeks and weeks turned into months.  Even if Draco held onto his first, it would never be enough.  With his sexual hunger increasing, his number of one night stands rose as well, but he kept her around.  Every week they confided in each other, and they were content.  Draco had his flings on the side and continued his constant relationship with her.  She stayed, not caring whom he seduced, as long as he came back to her.  They did everything imaginable, but as the years dragged by, Draco changed.  Gone were his feelings of sentiment, his signs of affection, and his delusion of loving her.  He realized that after so many years, he had made her into something she was not.  There was nothing extraordinary about Pansy Parkinson, only that she was Draco's first.

He flinched as she stepped into his room; he now realized why he was feeling sick.

"Parkinson!  How the hell did you –" Draco's voice raised, he took a step back as a confused expression spread over his face.

"Oh, Draco.  You are so predictable!!" Pansy continued in a mocking tone, "Draco Malfoy is a sexy bitch," she smiled, proud to have figured out Draco's password after a week's worth of failed attempts.

"I am NOT predictable!"  He made a mental note to change his password to 'Draco Malfoy: sex symbol.'

Pansy seductively slipped off her black school robes.  Underneath she was wearing a dark green, low cut shirt and a skirt that was about five inches too short.

Draco raised his eyebrow.  She looked like one of the tramps in the magazines Zabini always passed around.  Eyelids painted with three shades of green, face hidden under layers upon layers of cover up, and dark red lips.  Large silver hoops hung in her pierced ears and her hair shimmered under the light. The perfume she had sprayed all over her body reminded him of a crisp, winter rose.

The weather had lightened up; the rain had created a fresh, clean scent that floated into Draco's room through the open window.  Pansy walked over to his desk, opening one of the drawers.  She pulled out her oil burner that she had given him for moments like this.  After adding the oil, she lit the candle, and walked back over to the door, closing it softly.  She wanted everything to be perfect.  No matter how many times they were together it was never enough for her; she always needed more.  Her insides burned with anxiety; she stayed facing the door for a few moments longer.  Draco had not come to her for three weeks now and she worried he was growing tired of her once more.  She was meant to live in luxury, she knew it, and nothing was going to stop her.  Of course, it was a plus in her mind that Draco was more than gorgeous, almost unearthly so.  Whether he knew it or not, she keyed into his insecurities and made sure she was there to stay in his life, more than as his first lover, as his wife.

Turning around, she smiled coyly and stepped over to Draco.  His eyes seemed distant and faded.  She cupped his face, knowing she was the only person allowed to touch him intimately.

"Draco, honey?  Somethin' the matter?"  She began to stroke his hair.

He closed his eyes and turned into her embrace, "Nothing..."

"It's Potter, isn't it?  On your mind again?"

He nodded softly, "Mmm…"

"Don't give him another thought.  You beat him today, amazingly I might add.  Speaking of amazing, you looked so delicious today Draco, wrestling with Potter for that Snitch…I was," she leaned in and ran her tongue along the side of his neck, "…really turned on watching you two."

Draco smiled; the look on Potter's face would be burned into his memory forever. How long he had been waiting for it he was unsure.

"I love it when you get all mad like that," she cooed.

Pansy grabbed a hold of his waist and led him over to the bed.  She kissed him softly on the lips, but felt nothing in return.  Pushing Draco in the chest, he fell onto his back on the bed.  She slowly got on top of him, kissing his jaw line as she made her way up; he lay motionless under her.  The oil burned; a peppermint steam rose.  It overpowered the room, killing the sweet taste of rain that hung in the air.  The mood changed from a dead isolation to a sensual bliss.  And Draco went with the moment; the peppermint intoxicated him.  Pansy straddled his waist and rocked her hips back and forth softly, wordlessly asking him to join her in the moment.  As she kissed him on the lips once more, he did.  His instincts kicked in, and he threw her off of him, further into the bed.  Draco forced himself on top of her, pushing her shoulders into the bed with his arms roughly.  He loved the feeling he got when he hurt people; it turned him on more than anyone could know.

"Oh!  Yes!  Hurt me!" Pansy moaned.

Draco leaned down and bit her shoulder.  She whimpered softly, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.  He possessed her, licking, biting, sucking, and clawing at her skin.  Pansy moaned and trembled under him.  He wondered why he had gone so long without her.

_Draco had been hearing the same story from several Slytherins; everyone knew Pansy was his.  Goyle was in Draco's front room; they had taken some of the food from the kitchen, and Draco was attempting to help Goyle with his Transfiguration homework._

_"I'm starving!"_

_"…You're eating right now," Draco gave him a weird look._

_"I know!  Can you believe it?"  Draco shook his head as he watched his friend inhale pastry after pastry.  "Speaking o' that, Zabini's at it again."_

_Draco tensed hearing the boy's name and the insinuation, "You mean, right now?"_

_Goyle stuffed his face with a piece of cake and grunted.  He nodded as an after thought. _

_Draco got up, leaving Goyle to daydream of cake.  He stormed through the halls and descended into the dungeons.  Draco demanded that the painting let him in.  A few of the Slytherins moved out of his way.  One must have figured out why he was there and called out to him, "They're in her room tonight."_

_Before he even reached the door, he could hear them.  And their moaning.  Draco stopped; his hands trembled as he partly opened the door.  There was Blaise Zabini with his hands down Pansy's pants.  Whatever dreams Pansy had were destroyed in that instant.  It was one thing to use him for his money, but another altogether when he was being misled.  Draco left them undisturbed telling himself over and over that 'she means nothing,' 'a stupid slut,' 'a whore'.  But Blaise seemed to think he owned the world now that he had 'stolen' Pansy away from 'The Draco Malfoy'.   He attacked Draco verbally whenever he had the chance, thinking that the boy was oblivious to it all.  Pansy went along, pretending as though nothing had ever happened.  She ignored the rumours circulating about Draco being in the Slytherin dorms that night.  After all, she did not want to lose Draco and her entire future over some guy who was just a nice fuck._

"Ooh!  Harder!" Pansy's demands brought Draco back.

He looked down at himself and what he was doing, what he had sworn to never do again.  He took his hand from under her skirt, and grabbed her shirt, shoving it at her.  The ecstasy was gone from her eyes in an instant.

"Get. Out."

Pansy lay motionless, unsure if he was serious.  Draco grabbed her by her hair and yanked her off his bed, tossing her forcefully onto the ground.  She screamed from the pain, her eyes began to water; makeup fell down her face.  Draco turned away, not giving her a chance to look at him, to change his mind.

"What the fuck is your problem?!  I don't know what's with you lately, Draco.  You're so distant and being such a moody bastard, staying locked up in this room of yours.  What about all the good times we had?!" She picked herself up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Draco turned around with a murderous glare, "They were never good.  They all meant nothing.  **You** mean nothing.  Now leave."

Pansy gave Draco a stunned look; she realized he knew.  Her world was crashing down before her and she was furious.  Walking over to her school robe as if it were a death sentence, a glimmer of revenge caught her eye.  On his desk lay his most prized possession.  His mother had given him a sculpture of a dragon made of Obsidian, enchanted to look like it was sleeping.  A charm had been placed upon it to prevent its owner from having nightmares.  It was the only thing Draco could remember that his parents did that meant something to him.

Pansy's hand reached out and grabbed the stone, preparing to pitch it.

Draco had his wand pointing at her before she could pick it up off the desk, "Let go of that or I swear I'll ruin more than your fucking pathetic dream."

It did not matter to her what he did to her now; she began to throw it to the ground.

"_Wingardium Leviosa."_

He directed the dragon over to his bed.  Draco's vision turned red from the anger and hatred coursing through his veins that called out for Pansy's blood.  Pansy stared back at Draco, defiant.

"What did you think I was going to do, Draco?  Wait around while you fucked everything that moved around here?  Do you think that I don't hear about all your late night encounters?  With Gryffindors, Draco!  I thought you had standards!  And when I heard about you and…that mudblood!"  Pansy gave Draco a disgusted sneer.

"At least Blaise pays attention to me!  And he doesn't treat me like I'm a possession.  And I can have him whenever I want.  Not just when he feels like it!"

_He was writhing underneath him, Potter was writhing underneath him, up against him.  Draco had his hand on, hand on **him**.  Hot and heavy, breathe in, breathe out.  Breathe in Potter, breathe in Harry, and he could feel the burn.  The burn of those eyes on him, those pure, tempting, jaded eyes.  The temptation drew Draco in, pulled Draco into a world where the right was the right and the wrong could be just as right.  And it felt so right, so perfect as there was no fear, no hate, no one else to ruin this life he had fallen into, this life falling into him.  He could see it all, all in those eyes that hid no lies. They only spoke of a future that looked so promising, so loving, so right. And Draco succumbed to those eyes. Succumbed out of fear for losing his everything, his Harry._

"Draco!  Are you even listening to me?  This is important!"

Pansy took a step towards Draco.

Draco looked up at her, confused.  "I thought I told you to leave. Get out. Go. Away."

"Make me!" She stood stubbornly in front of him.

Draco swooped down and grabbed her cloak.  He walked firmly to where she stood, and shoved the cloak at her chest.  Pansy raised her hand to grab the cloth, and fumbled as the cloak slipped through her hands.  Draco stepped behind her, reached out and turned the doorknob.  As the door swung open, Draco walked forward, grabbed the back of her shirt and threw her out of the room.  She fell too the ground loudly, screeching.  As she turned to look at Draco, his door slammed cruelly in her face.

Draco turned away from the door and smiled.  

That was thoroughly satisfying!  

The door shook as a loud thump! came from the other side.  Pansy's footsteps echoed from the front room as she stormed out.  

"Well, that went better than expected."  

*~*~*

Hermione perused the titles of the ancient dusty books in the library the next morning.  Her fingers closed around one in particular:  Handbook of Herbology.  She walked back over to her secluded corner.  Moving a few books that were strewn across the table, she thumbed through the pages.  She had put off doing the research for the Torn Lover for a few days now.  Her Advanced Transfiguration essay was due in two weeks that absorbed most of her research time.  She crammed all she had learned about Animagi into just over thirty inches of parchment.  Then, of course, there was the Gryffindor party the night before.

After Ron and Hermione left to put Crookshanks back in the room, Ron became all romantic and held onto her, telling her how beautiful she was.  She smiled as the memory flooded back.  Her fingers passed over the word 'lover', and her eyes lit up.  No one else could understand the joy she found in searching and uncovering bits of lost information.  She did not mind though; the absence of others freed her of distraction whenever she went to work.  Hermione's eyes scanned the passage.  It was the same that she had heard from Professor Sprout.  The Muggle man, the betrayal, and the burning of the witch.  That is, until she read the last paragraph.  Hermione pondered its meaning, got up and went on a search for a very different book.  It was tucked away in a dark corner, and it took her several minutes to find it.  She opened the book, blowing dust off the forgotten pages, and scanned through the dates.

"All right."

Her eyes focused on a date: sixteen hundred ninety-six.  Her eyes shifted back and forth, devouring the pages contents.  One word appeared over and over again.  She slowly put the book down.

_It can't be…_

*~*~*

**Author's Note:**

_Nicole – _I am getting very jealous! NO ONE MESSAGES ME! I AM WHAT YOU CALL A 'COOL GUY'.  Seriously!  **My AIM username is sherbertballz**! I am funny and I am better than Sara. She steals all of my ideas and claims they are hers! What a whore! D:  I am highly displeased!

_Sara _– Errm, sad thing is, I had to type that out 0.0 That's ok, I had fun with the formatting. Anyway, go IM Nicole sometime as I think she will castrate me =/ and that's not possible, but I think she can do it. NINE TIMES! Now, I will be reading the stories I promised I said I would; I plan on keeping my promises ^-^

Now, about this chapter. I am sooo sorry about that Pansy scene! That was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my life. Well, maybe Pansy and Blaise *shudders* there's a reason why I didn't go into detail about that. I don't know if I'd be able to live with myself. I could hardly even stand the whole Hermione/Ron. I'm disappointed in the locker scene though. I wanted it to be better, but I just couldn't do it. Sorry guys!

And this God forsaken site. I KILL FFN IN THE NAME OF SARA AND SUMIRE! DIE DIE DIE _I can do it! I will do it nine times! _Be gone with you FFN, you shall piss me off no more. And if you do, then I **will** make you suffer. Anyone else who wants to kill FFN, join in! There's plenty of it to go around! Also, I hate the word count on this site, it is NEVER right! For chapter 4, just the story part is 11,137 and it says this whole thing is 10,590 something. **LIARS!** ^-^ Am I the only person ever obsessed with numbers? I find myself alone =( please tell me I'm not alone!

*gasps* I think…I think, this is a first, I can't see one formatting problem *dies* I can't tell you how long I've been trying to get this right. I know it would have been really hard if the thoughts weren't in italics when they're supposed to be. Oh man, you better praise me for this. I finally defeated this FFN monster!

**Bonuses** –

1. The song Seamus is singing the locker scene, give me the title of the song AND the name of the person who wrote it.

2. If Goyle were to shove something under his pillow for **secret eating**,what would it be? (P.S. it's not chicken and if I find one person who says that, I'll have Nicole castrate you…or Draco, whichever)

Now, chapter 5, we have an outline all the way through it. We know what we want to do, but haha! We are going to make you suffer while we wait for the fifth book to come out since there are scenes that deal with this book.  Look forward to some Lusciousness, crawling Draco, and a hospital visit, but for whooo?! No no, it's for both hahahaha!

So go review, entertain us with your words ^-^ I seriously do love reviews though, makes me feel all nice inside.

Pieces!

**AIM**: corrupted sight

**Yahoo**: yaydracoharry

**MSN**: dracoishaat@hotmail.com

**E-mail**: Dracosnoggin@seductive.com

If you want to e-mail both of us, then use **this **e-mail: yaydracoharry@yahoo.com


	6. Update Two

_Sara_ – Since book five came out, there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is that a lot of what I predicted came true ^-^ The bad news is, that some things did not go according to plan.

Therefore! I must make a few announcements. 1. We will **not** recognize the character death in book five in Of Flesh and Blood. 2. Nothing will be changed in the world of Quidditch.

But, I've decided to rewrite basically all of chapter one and two. Chapter 5 will not be up for some time as we are now working more on the slash archive.

If you want to submit any fics or recommend any Draco/Harry stories e-mail the link/story to imperio@writeme.com

If you want to see the slash archive, the link is: www.imperio.virtue.nu

Sorry for the delay ^-^

**SAFETY KIDS!!!**

**Are you safe?**__


	7. Update Three

Hmmmmmm  
  
Not to worry! I have not forgotten about this story. It's been coming to me off and on. Rather than update here, it'll start being posted up at our archive -   
  
Everything's been slacking. School started for both Nicole and me. My computer fucked me over royally last week, so I lost all my stories that were on here. I also haven't been able to print anything off my computer for months, so I have no backups unless someone else has them.  
  
One of these days, the urge will be too powerful for me to deny and I'll be back to writing this story along with many others that I've promised.  
  
-Sara 


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